1618686836 (F) (13 page)

“Close. Come back to me when you know him as well as you think you do, and as well as I do.”

Tears started to roll down Quinn’s face. Maertn had saved her life, and not only did she not know how, she hadn’t even thanked him for it. What kind of ugly person would she see if she looked inside herself? Sammah had saved her. Why was she questioning him all of sudden?

Sammah saw this conflict play across her vulnerable and open face. He stopped the smirk as it started to tweak the corners of her mouth. Deep down, she still believed she needed him. She had to keep believing that.

Suddenly, as if her mind had accidentally stumbled across an open door to a chamber previously denied to her, Quinn looked at him sharply.

“Why did you burn when I touched you?”

“You can’t feel me Quinn. You know that.”

“But it’s never felt like that before. Before, there was nothing. Now, it hurts.”

“Does it hurt now?”

Quinn held her tongue before answering. She hadn’t wanted to tell Sammah she had stopped being bombarded. She didn’t want him to know that she was in control now. Sammah though was one step ahead.

“They’re not troubling you any more, are they? You have to go searching for what people feel, if you want to feel anything at all. You can pick and choose what gets in. Before, you had to concentrate to keep people out. Now, you have to concentrate to let them in. Look me in the eye and tell me that I’m wrong.”

She looked down at the floor. That was enough of an answer for Sammah.

“You felt that, child, because you will never be able to sense me. You’re growing up, Quinn. You’re a young woman. Next year, you will simply be a woman, and beyond the legality of my care. Being able to control your ability more effectively is a natural step of growing up. Maertn can control his better now, too. Which is just as well for you, otherwise the Beach of Bones would have just been the start of your journey.”

Quinn let the tears drop openly now. Sammah reached out with a handkerchief and mopped them gently away.

“I don’t want to upset you, Quinn. But you’re a dangerous woman. Your reputation precedes you. I have to keep you safe, for your own sake. You understand, don’t you, that this is for the best?”

Quinn nodded. Sammah nodded in time with her, and Elias's hands lifted away.

“Good. Now, you shouldn’t even be out of bed. You’ve had a lot of shocks in the last couple of days, and I want you to rest. Get strong valerian from Maertn, make sure you put it in your tea. Ask him to burn some bergamot in your room, too. That should help with the pain.”

It was then that Quinn remembered she wasn’t in pain. All the agony she had felt, both times, had been in her mind. “Why did I collapse, Sammah?”

She thought she saw his eyes darken again, but as quickly as it appeared, it went, to be replaced with consternation and a furrowed brow.

“That many emotions at once? I’m not surprised you collapsed, child. Remember what you were like with Sirah? That many men fighting each other at once? Brutes, to a man? It must have been terrible for you. Now, to bed with you. And I’ll send Elias to check on you to make sure you’re resting like I’ve asked.”

Quinn nodded dumbly and got off her knees. She brushed down, drafted a quick bow to each of them, and fled the room.

* * *

“Keep an eye on her Elias,” Sammah said. “She’s asking too many questions. I’m not going to be able to control her like the others for much longer. We’re going to need a new plan.”

Elias nodded and left. Sammah started pacing the room. It was happening too soon. Was Quinn really already this old? Or had he simply underestimated her power, for her to be sensing him already? Either way, his plans were going to be swung into action whether he liked it or not. They would need some adjusting to make sure the dice still rolled the right way, but they would still work. He would not let his ill-judgement of one of his charges get in the way of a plan he had been weaving since the end of the ill-fated Empath War.

22

“Ah she was a pretty one under all that filth, make no mistake, Eden. Sharp eyes. Not overdone. Looked a bit angry. Maybe a bit too feisty for me. Some men like that though, eh? A spirited mare.”

Eden tried to ignore his father as he was elbowed for what felt like the hundredth time over dinner. He didn’t care for being jostled about when he was trying to eat, though his chances of actually speaking out against his tyrant of a father and getting through the day with his skin intact were minimal. He wished Rowan were there to cushion him from his father’s attention, but both of his brothers were roaming the castle with Ross. They were being familiarised with the layout, and the work of a royal chamberlain. He took a deliberately large mouthful of bread and muffled words through it, hoping to placate Shiver with vague responses. Eden resented growing up. His father hadn’t been this open the last time he had come to court. He was growing older, yes. That didn’t mean he wanted to be exposed to the libidinous ravings of his own father. He’d considered, more than once, going to the herbman’s apprentice and getting some ground chasteberry to temper his ale. It would be interesting to see if that had any effect, or if the doddering guild of fools had simply taken to deception to keep their place in civilised society.

Eden took another chew as his father kept dribbling on about the maid he had seen in Sammah’s apartments. Even Harn seemed bored with it all. They even shared some conspiratorial whispers.

“I wish these meetings would hurry up and start, then he’ll be out of our way for at least a few days.”

“Yes, but imagine what he’ll be like when he finally gets out again. You think he’s bad now? Imagine what he’ll be like after a couple of days out of the saddle.”

Eden made a sour face, and Harn gave him a genuinely hearty laugh in response.

They carried on in this fashion throughout. All other lords had arrived throughout the morning, so sooner or later the men would get their wish. If not by this evening, then by tomorrow morning, Vance would have Ross ring the bells at the top tower, and the Lords of Everfell would be called in to court with their king.

When Eden had been a babe, these meetings had actually meant something, so his father would have him believe. They had been meetings of war and tactics, where the movements of the joint armies of the seven Lords of Everfell had been planned and instructed. Shiver had been crucial in these meetings; a leader even. King Vance had no knowledge of war. It had been the city of Sevenspells, for as long as Eden had ears to hear it, that had the defence of Everfell from the threats that lay to the south. Those threats had been the legions of the Sha’sek. Hundreds of years prior, no one had thought that it would be possible for an army to cross the Southern Desert and still be in enough shape to wage war. What they hadn’t considered, was that an army could come across the desert and wait in the southwestern wildlands, recouping their strength and gathering supplies. From there, the roads of the king were available for any horse that wished to travel. Everfell had been caught severely unawares by the barbarians from the south. They had been organised fighters. Where Everfell had assumed Sha’sek to be disparate island states with no common interests, they had come across a united enemy with strong and defined leadership, intent on achieving its simple and clear goal; defeat Everfell, and forge a way inland for their people to thrive in a land they claimed had once been theirs.

Whether the statement or history was true or not, what the ledgers left in no doubt was Shiver’s role in keeping Everfell safe. He was a war hero. The problem was, he had spent the last fifteen years making sure that absolutely no one forgot that.

As the stories wore on, and Eden’s patience grew thin, he was about to summon someone for directions to the herbman, when his prayers were answered. Ross walked to the centre of the hall and the hubbub around him automatically stopped. The ceremonial bell hung limply in his giant hand. He waited for complete peace before he raised this and pealed it once. There was a collective holding of breath before the great bell sounded in response. Stifled though it was by the bricks of the castle, it brought a raucous cheer from everyone gathered in the hall, for no other reason than it underlined the existing peace that brought them all together now.

Shiver threw his napkin to the table as he rose. The formerly white piece of starched cloth was now smeared with grease and blood from the lord’s feasting. He pulled at Eden’s shoulder.

“Come, lad. You can see the hall. It’s tradition, when you get to your age. Then you can do what you like for the next couple of days. Hopefully I’ll come back to find out you’ve both grown some balls and started using them.”

Eden sulked all the way up the circular stairs to the suites at the very top of the castle. He had to admit, it was pretty exciting to be allowed in to the royal apartments where his father and the other lords would exclusively spend the next few days of meetings. His visit, however, was cut abruptly short as a giant of a man clad in rough dark leather came at them headlong in the hallway. Eden’s legs buckled as he took in the sword at the man’s side, the colour of his skin, and the scars that lanced across its surface. How could they let such a heavily-armed Sha’sek in this part of the castle? He glanced at his father. Shiver looked pale, but he didn’t back off. Eden started to shake, his limbs getting hot with adrenalin. What was going on?

“What do you want?”

The man merely pointed, back the way he had come.

“I can’t. Didn’t you hear the bell? Are you deaf as well as mute?”

The man put his hand to his sword belt, and lifted the hilt clear of the sheath. It was a slight gesture, and he dropped it back within seconds, but its meaning was clear enough. Who was this emboldened man?

“Fine! Fine. Sammah will pay for this, mark my words. Here, boy.”

Eden was unexpectedly tugged close to his father, who hissed in to his ear.

“Attend the Baron Sammah. Do whatever he wants.
Whatever
he wants. He thinks he’s got me right where he wants me, but he knows nothing about the resources Sevenspells has at its disposal. Find out everything you can. Make yourself invaluable, you understand me? I want to hear a report when I’m out of these blasted meetings.”

Pushing Eden back in to the middle of the corridor, he grunted out loud, “Take my son. He is my guard captain, and can speak in my name. He knows enough of my affairs to be as much as Sammah needs.”

“What? I don’t…father I…”

“Don’t fail me, Eden.
”
Shiver hissed before pushing him in to the waiting clutches of the Sha’sek mercenary. Eden was unceremoniously dragged, his feet crumbling beneath him, as he tried to make sense of what his father had said. He knew nothing of Sevenspell’s politics, nor any of his father’s affairs. None of the kind associated with ruling, at any rate.

As he was pushed through the already-open door of Sammah’s chambers, he wondered whether this had all been an elaborate setup, and putting him in this situation was the sole reason his father had made him captain of the guard and brought him to Everfell in the first place.

23

“I have a better idea. Quickly, take off your hood.”

“But Sammah, he will see me. He’ll know what I am. Wouldn’t you think it would be best if…?”

“Just do as I ask, Quinn. I’m not asking you to think. I’m asking you to act.”

She did as Sammah bade her, quickly pulling of the cloak and hood that marked her as the Satori and throwing it down behind Sammah’s chair, where it was hopefully out of sight. Not too long before time either, as a young lad was pushed through the door, stumbling on to his hands and knees and scraping himself on the hard stone floor.

“Elias,” Sammah scolded “this is no way to treat a guest. Especially not one of noble decent. Here, let me help you up.”

Sammah had sounded every bit as taunting as he had meant to be, though with the implied politeness, Eden could do nothing but take the man’s hand and dust himself off.

“Thank you, baron. Your friend—Elias, was it—has a very hard-handed way of dealing with people.”

“I’m sorry my lord, he has problems with following orders. He’s often far too literal. I didn’t mean to have him actually dragged here. You oaf. Go to the antechamber. That will be all for now.”

Elias—a mountain to rival Ross, as far as Eden could see—shrugged and left the room. How odd. Had his father said the man was mute? Was that true, rather than just an insult? Eden was about to ask about that when he caught sight of the young woman who stood to the side of Sammah’s chair. She had to be around his age. She was tall and slender, her skin tanned and fresh. Her eyes were a heavy blue. They looked weary. Almost as if they belonged to someone older than her. Her lips were thin, possibly held that way in a line. Very stern. She was definitely stunning. Eden thought that if she smiled, then she would perhaps be beautiful.

“Ah, Eden, isn’t it? This is Quinn, the eldest of my orphans.”

Eden thought he saw the girl—Quinn, the name suited her—redden at the tag. What a shame. How young had she been when she’d had to go through the pain of losing her mother and father?