Black eagle rising, p.45
Black Eagle Rising, page 45
part #3 of Elita Series
Robert smiled encouragingly and leaned forward, resting his arms on the back of the chair. ‘Do you know why you’re here?’
‘I was caught.’
‘No, I mean, why your people are fighting this war alongside Selar?’
‘Oh, and I suppose you’re going to tell me how misguided I am. Give me your rotten side of the story. I’ve met your kind before, Salti monster!’
Micah shuddered, but Finnlay laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering, ‘Don’t let her get to you. Robert knows what he’s doing.’
‘Yes, I suppose I do think you’re misguided, but I doubt anything I have to say is going to change that. But, strictly speaking, I’m not Salti.’
‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’
‘I won’t lie to you.’ Robert paused. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Now who’s lying,’ Robert said indulgently. ‘I am the Enemy and I don’t want you to betray your people. I don’t even want you to betray that damned idiot King you’ve set yourself to helping. Rather, I want to know about Samdon Nash.’
Her eyes widened, once more flickering to Micah, lingering a moment longer than before, but still giving nothing away. She wasn’t to know there was no help at all to be gained from Micah.
‘Nash?’ The girl repeated, feigning confusion.
‘Or Carlan, or the Angel of Darkness. Whichever you prefer. It appears those of us in the prophecy are cursed with a multitude of superfluous names. I’m told it’s the nature of prophecy to be so unnecessarily complicated. Will you tell me about him?’
‘I … I … ’ She paused, a little more fear showing on her pale face. ‘I don’t know anything about Carlan.’
‘You’re afraid of him?’
She said nothing.
‘Are you prepared to protect him?’
‘I protect nobody but my own people!’
‘Then Nash is not Malachi.’
She shut her mouth as though she’d let out a great secret.
Robert sat back. ‘Just as I’m not Salti. Interesting. Has he told you about the prophecy?’
‘He told us you would claim some great destiny drove you on. I’m not a fool. I know what I see.’
‘Do you?’ Robert enquired gently. ‘I don’t see how you can. I don’t see how anyone can know what he is and follow him. Did you ever ask – or did you just follow your leaders, assuming they knew what they were doing? You’re here because you’re Malachi and you want the Key from the Salti Pazar. It’s as simple as that, isn’t it? No questions, no need to look with your own eyes, think with your own mind. You know what’s really sad? If you had the Key, you would be no better off.’
‘So you do know where it is?’
‘And I would destroy it before I ever let a Malachi get his hands on it. Or Nash.’
With a sigh, Robert got to his feet and lifted the chair out of the way. ‘You sit there a while and have a good think about all the things you’ve been told. Think about what you know is true and what you see in Nash. I’ll be back later.’
Robert turned and ushered Micah and Finnlay out of the tent. They stopped a little distance away and Finnlay asked the inevitable question. ‘What are you going to do with her?’
Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Robert answered, ‘I don’t know. I can’t keep her here. I can’t afford the manpower tomorrow. I need Salti on the field to combat whatever Malachi are left. I know she’s young, but … ’
Micah interrupted, his voice harsh, ‘You would kill her?’
‘I’m not a murderer, Micah, but I remember what happened to Ayn because I let Valena leave Dunlorn in one piece. How do I know this girl won’t, some time in the future, bring harm to someone I love? I’m not sure I could face that again. What do you expect me to do?’
‘Well,’ Micah paused, his face hard, ‘you can’t be sure she won’t change her mind and help you. It will be another few hours before she’s any danger. Why don’t you just ask Arlie to give her a sleeping draught. Keep her that way. She’d be no harm to anyone. And after tomorrow, you could let her go or … or kill her. Whatever.’
Robert raised his eyebrows and glanced at Finnlay. ‘Certainly a better idea than any I’ve come up with. What do you think?’
Finnlay shrugged. ‘She’s done us no harm so far. And she could be a help if we can turn her. It’s as good an option as any.’
‘I agree … ’
Finnlay?
Jenn? What is it?
Is Robert with you?
Yes, why?
Your mother is looking for him. She’s frantic. It’s Galiena. Something’s wrong.
*
It took little time to gain Robert’s pavilion. Finnlay hurried in after him, expecting to find chaos, but only Aiden waited, pacing, concern written all over his face.
‘Thank the gods!’ He waved towards the other chamber. ‘Your mother’s in there with her.’
Robert didn’t wait to ask questions. Instead he strode through the open doorway to find Margaret just getting to her feet, a bowl and a cloth in her hand.
‘I’m sorry, Robert, Galiena is very ill. I’ve sent for a Healer but … ’
Galiena lay on the bed, her eyes staring up without moving. Her breathing was a harsh gasp, drawn in, held and let out again. Each one seemed more difficult, more laboured. Her eyes were ringed with red; a thick film of sweat shone over her white face. Her whole body was rigid, tense, as if ready to fight.
Robert knelt down beside the bed and took her hands. ‘Galiena? Can you hear me?’
Slowly, she turned her head, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. Her mouth quivered, but the only sound to come out was a rasping breath. Robert looked up at his mother, then called, ‘Finn, get Jenn in here. Now!’
Jenn? Come quickly!
On my way.
‘Galiena?’ Robert urged. ‘Just hold on. You’ll be fine. I’ll stay with you. Just hold on.’
Again the girl tried to speak, but the effort failed and only weakened her.
‘How long has she been like this?’ Finnlay asked Margaret.
‘I don’t know. I was woken by the attack, but as things quietened down, I could hear her crying out – our tents are so close. I came in to find her like this.’
Galiena stiffened suddenly, closing her eyes with a grimace. Robert smoothed her hair down, trying to ease her pain with whispered words. ‘Where’s Jenn?’
‘Here.’
Finnlay stepped aside to let her through. She came to a halt at the end of the bed.
‘Tell me what’s wrong with her,’ Robert said through clenched teeth.
Jenn nodded, pushing her hood back. She stared a moment at Galiena, then looked with complete despair at Finnlay.
‘Well?’ Robert demanded. ‘What’s wrong? Doesn’t your Healer’s sight work any more?’
Jenn swallowed. ‘She’s been poisoned, Robert.’
‘Poison?’ Robert whirled around.
‘She’s … dying.’
Galiena gasped then and Robert turned back to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.
‘Please, Robert,’ Jenn whispered. ‘Help her.’
‘Go.’ He cradled Galiena against his chest, his eyes shut tight against them all.
Silently, Finnlay drew Jenn away, then his mother. Only Aiden remained, murmuring prayers. Finnlay stayed in the doorway, unable to leave completely. He felt the power grow out of Robert, sensed it flowing through his body to Galiena’s, swallowing up her pain, her torment. He heard her breathing ease and grow so quiet it was almost inaudible.
And he saw the tears.
As McCauly fell silent Finnlay stepped back, into the shadows. Then Galiena’s breathing stopped completely.
*
Margaret sat in a corner of the meeting room, clenched her hands together and tried to force some calm, some degree of …
Oh, what was the use of it? Her eyes wouldn’t obey. Tears fell down her cheeks without pause, as though they would drown the pain inside, wash it away.
‘Here, drink a little of this.’ Jenn approached and sat beside Margaret. Carefully, she placed a cup between Margaret’s hands, guided it to her mouth.
‘I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to … ’
‘Don’t apologise,’ Jenn said softly. She glanced over her shoulder to where the men stood. Micah and Finnlay, the Bishop and now Arlie. All talking quietly, as though there were a risk they’d wake Galiena.
If only they could.
‘She was so young.’ Margaret swallowed and sniffed. Jenn gave her a slip of linen and she wiped her eyes. ‘She was too young to die like that. She wanted so much to do something, to fight the evil her father had become. And now, like so many women before her, she’s been sacrificed for nothing. Just a child … ’ Margaret’s voice trailed off as Robert appeared in the doorway. He moved stiffly, his eyes grey and tired, his face ashen. Everyone turned to face him.
‘Who else knows about this?’ he said into the silence.
‘No one,’ McCauly replied, apparently the only one to retain the ability to speak.
‘Then,’ Robert nodded slowly, ‘as far as everyone else is concerned, my wife did not die. She’s ill, needs to rest. This army will not know what’s happened here. Not tonight. Aiden, will you take care of her?’
‘Of course.’
‘Tomorrow night, no matter what, Galiena will lie in State as she deserves. Micah, find Deverin and tell him what’s happened. Nobody else is to know.’
He said nothing more, so the others began to move, but Margaret couldn’t find the strength to get up. Robert watched her for a moment, then came over, bending to kiss her forehead with barely a touch.
When Jenn made to leave, Robert raised a hand to stop her, calling Finnlay over.
‘I can’t imagine anyone hating my wife so much they’d want her dead,’ Robert began carefully, ‘so I’m forced to assume that the poison was intended for me. I drank from that flask myself earlier this evening, so it must have been added since Galiena went to bed.’
‘Nash?’ Finnlay asked, his eyes wide.
Robert frowned. ‘Possibly, but I can’t see him taking such a risk coming here on his own.’
‘A traitor, then?’
‘Or somebody who managed to get in here while we were fighting on the perimeter. Somebody powerful enough to make a mask he can move with. A dimensional shift.’
‘But I’ve never known anybody to do that … ’
‘I can.’ Robert ran his hands through his hair. ‘The problem is tomorrow and keeping the truth from our army. Galiena was to ride with me before the battle. Jenn, since nobody knows you’re here – or even alive for that matter – you’ll have to take Galiena’s place. Mother will find some suitable clothes for you. Wear a scarf or something so nobody close recognises you. You’re shorter than Galiena, so you’d better stay mounted. You just make sure you stay out of the fight.’
Jenn nodded.
‘Finn, I want you to keep your ears open. If you hear any rumour about Galiena, let me know. I trust everyone who’s here. If word gets out, then it will only be from the mouth of the traitor. Where did this wine come from?’
‘McCauly,’ Finnlay replied. ‘I tipped all the rest out.’
Robert nodded, then noticed something lying on the table. A long package wrapped in linen. For a second, Margaret didn’t move – then she stood abruptly.
But it was too late.
‘What’s this?’
‘I … It’s your father’s sword, Robert. I wanted you to have it for tomorrow.’
Hesitant fingers pulled at the ribbons, taking the cloth back to reveal the blade in its scabbard. ‘I thought it had been lost.’
‘I couldn’t leave it behind at Dunlorn. I … ’
He stepped back, his eyes still on the sword. ‘Put it away, Mother.’
‘Robert?’ Finnlay began.
‘No. I will not use it to kill my own countrymen.’ With that, he turned for the door.
‘Where are you going?’ Jenn instantly sprang to her feet. ‘You’re not going to find Nash?’
Robert’s gaze snapped to her, but his voice remained level. ‘I’m going to do something I should have done when we first got here.’ And then he was gone.
*
The night was cold, almost icy, but Robert hardly felt it. As he stole through the camp, soldiers complained about it, wrapped their cloaks around themselves against it, all a little more nervous than before. Fires burned glowing coals, rich and red, dotted about the darkness like fat stars in a bumpy sky.
He paused at the perimeter to check no one could see him. The forest sat on his right, bleak and full of movement, life unchallenged and uncaring of the forces gathered around it. With barely a thought, Robert reached down inside and gathered together the threads of his power, wove them into a tight ball against the demon. Even as his feet moved again, so he took the mental step sideways, crossing into a dimension he could never fully understand. From this moment onwards, he would be completely invisible.
A breath of warm air drifted towards him as he passed the forest. Nightjars and owls sang in echo, faintly calling to his intent. Then he came to the river. Selar had erected a bridge and his guards patrolled it, but Robert walked by unnoticed. Even his footsteps on the timber were silent. He reached the other side and ignored the Sadlani patrols. He walked through the slick black oil Arlie’s men had poured along the enemy bank, ready for the morning. He picked his way past clumps of sleeping soldiers, Lusarans and Guildesmen, panting in nightmares of the day to come.
Then further and deeper into enemy territory he moved, where humble tents and mighty pavilions littered the land, scars on the once-clean grass. He could hear horses and dogs in the distance. Closer, the snoring of men, grumbles, moans and someone coughing.
He stopped and counted.
A patrol of four armed soldiers in royal livery marched by him, intent on their work, unable to see the danger within their boundary.
Forty-six. Malachi, every one. Foul putrescent canker, spread about the camp, hidden from fearful eyes, buried deep and ready for treachery.
And something else. Not Malachi, not Salti. Something else. Something so rotten, his senses recoiled from examining it too closely. Was it him – or the murderer?
Not Nash. Robert knew no scent of his aura. That was invisible to him, as his had always been to Nash. Just as it should be.
Yes, there was someone else.
He should go now, while he still had energy to hold the shift. He’d need all his reserves for the battle tomorrow but—
He turned and wandered between the tents, his head turning, listening, smelling for the rat who had left a trail wide as the river. It brought him to the door of a pavilion beside Selar’s.
Kenrick.
Two guards stood outside and Robert paused before them. He raised his hand and they turned, imagining a noise to their left. In that instant, he ducked through the door and came to a halt before the bed.
A boy, no more. Fourteen, with the face of a baby as he slept on in ignorance. The sheets were a mess, tangled around his legs.
On the table was a bottle small enough to fit into his palm. Robert picked it up, carefully sniffing the contents. Then he reached the side of the bed.
Slowly Robert reached out to touch a single finger to Kenrick’s forehead. ‘Remember,’ he whispered, ‘every day of your life, remember with pain. Fear me.’ He pressed hard for a moment, enforcing the command, then stepped back. Kenrick shifted and moaned in his sleep, but didn’t wake.
No, not death for this little one. Not for the boy who had just murdered his own sister and could still rest in the slumber of the innocent. No death just yet. Instead, something much worse.
Robert turned on his heel, paused long enough to repeat the command on the guards, then strode out of the camp.
He waited until he was halfway across the bridge before releasing the shift. Let the enemy know he’d been among them, unhindered and unnoticed.
Let them be afraid.
28
Aiden rode in solemn procession towards the battlefield. At his side, her face veiled but her back straight, was Jenn. Half a dozen soldiers accompanied them, two in front and four behind, all proudly wearing the black eagle of the Douglas House emblazoned on their chests.
A bleak sun elbowed down on the silent battlefield, while a wind blustered back and forth, tossing threatening clouds before it. Pennants flew above the lines of men, topping the pikes and spears raised in salute. Row upon row of archers lined the hillside to the left, still and waiting. Horses snuffed and stamped, but kept their positions, as though they too knew what was about to happen.
Aiden rode along the ranks until he reached a small hillock where magnates and priests alike sat upon their mounts in a wide row, gazing out at the view. They were all there, polished armour glinting silver, faces grim and empty of all humour. So different to the reverent faces he’d seen at mass that morning.
He came to a halt beside Finnlay and turned to look out over the valley: five thousand Lusaran soldiers, gathered and ordered in their divisions, left and right. A flat green expanse empty to the river. The bridge, guarded by Robert’s sorcerers. And the enemy, twice the men, tightly formed, pennants of black and red flying high above. Yellow too, for the Guilde. In the centre, high above the others, was Selar’s banner, declaring, for all to see, his claim to this field.
‘Sweet Mineah!’
The whispered words came from his left. Jenn fidgeted with her reins a moment, then settled her hands once again. Aiden would have reached out to her, but with this audience, such comfort was impossible.
‘Yes, it’s quite a sight, isn’t it?’ Finnlay replied, his voice betraying his own awe.
‘And Robert?’ Aiden asked, looking about.
‘Over there.’ Finnlay pointed to the left where Robert, walking ahead of his horse, reviewed the archers. Micah rode behind him, carrying Robert’s banner. After a moment, Robert stopped, swung himself up into the saddle and cantered over to Aiden and the others.
He stopped before them, looking from one face to the next. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better get on with it. If his Grace the Bishop is ready?’
