Cethe (21 page)

he was tired, the kind of numbing exhaustion that said he’d used more power than his body could afford.

“Is it over?” asked Stefn in a smal voice.

Michael got up and stepped out into the open. His stomach dropped. Devastation met his horrified gaze. The hil side had been

stripped clean of vegetation. The marsh was now a lake, clumps of debris floating on its turbulent surface. Already the currents had

started to reverse, to rush back to the delta from whence al the water had come.

“What have you done?” whispered Stefn, emerging into the moonlight behind him.

“I don’t know,” he replied, voice cracking. Stefn said something else, but Michael didn’t hear. Instead, he turned inward, and

sent out tendrils of k’na, seeking their horses. Nothing.

“Come on,” he said harshly, wincing at the twinge in his temples.

Without waiting to see if Stefn obeyed, he started along the bluff, noting how close the water had actual y come to their cave

and how high it was stil . The wave had been larger than he’d thought! His heart thumped painful y; a cold, sickening knot of regret

tightened in his gut.

He hurried along the steep slope, using wet rocks as handholds, never minding when he slipped and fel . Had the wave been

powerful enough to reach Blackmarsh itself? He started to run.

A cry behind him brought him up short. Looking around, he saw Stefn tumbling, head over heels, down the embankment,

straight toward the rushing, debris-choked water! Michael slid after him, terrified he’d fal in and be washed away.

Inches from the surging tide, Stefn stopped and laid stil , clinging desperately to a large root exposed by the flood. Michael

reached him a moment later, wrapping his hand around one thin, bruised wrist, dragging him up and out of danger.

“Let me go,” gasped Stefn. “I can walk,” and promptly went down again. Remembering his bad foot, Michael cursed and got

his cethe back to his feet. Muddy, soaking wet and limping badly, Stefn would never make it back to Blackmarsh tonight. Nor, if he

were honest, would he.

Stefn’s teeth chattered audibly. In the dim glow of Michael’s witchlight, he was white as bone. Dark hair clung wetly to his

head, fal ing into his eyes. His breath came and went, ragged. “We’l go back to the cave,” Michael heard himself saying. “It should

be easier in the morning.”

Back in their shelter, Stefn col apsed to the sandy floor, hugging himself. Michael, almost as wet, felt the chil now, too. He sat

next to Stefn and, after a moment, put his arm around him. Stefn responded by huddling closer. His body was rigid with cold.

“Loth!” Michael said quietly. “You’re freezing.” He shifted around, settling the smal er man before him, and wrapped both arms

around him. This time, there was a brief spate of resistance, but it ended quickly.

“W-wish we could have a fire… ”

“Everything’s soaked.”

“Y-y-you’re a naragi. M-make fire out… out of n-nothing.”

“Al I know is Spark. It wil light fires, but it only lasts… ” Michael broke off.

He needed to stop thinking like a witch. Ordinarily, Spark only lasted an instant, but he was no longer ordinary. Surely he had

enough strength left for this? Michael looked at the damp rocks at the mouth of the cave and focused on the largest. It began to

glow.

Warmth fil ed their smal space and in his arms, Stefn gradual y relaxed, becoming a limp, heavy weight against him. Michael

let his head fal back against the cave wal and closed his eyes. The enervating, irresistible drag of over-extension made him long for

sleep. Yet, as he sat there, Stefn’s body warm against his, he could not help wondering, if he were to take Stefn here, now, would he

be replenished?

Inexplicably, the very question made him squirm, as much with angry self-loathing as with the rush of heat the notion

produced. He looked down at the dark head resting against his shoulder, hair soft and fine as silk. It did no good to remind himself

that Stefn was much stronger and more resilient than he looked, or that he was an Eldering and a sacrifice to justice.

Maybe it was the power of the Bond between them, but so what? Loth! How much easier it had been in the beginning, when

he’d thought of Stefn as just another Hunter, deserving of his cruel fate. Michael stroked a wayward lock of hair back from Stefn’s

forehead. Stefn murmured and nestled closer.

Michael touched his lips to that warm, dark hair and then laid his own cheek against it. That was al he dared al ow himself.

There was no reason to disturb his cethe, no reason he had to recover quickly. He wasn’t so tired that Sleep would not do the trick.

The time would come when neither of them had a choice, but that time wasn’t tonight.

“Lord Arranz! Wake up! Michael!”

Michael started awake, staring blankly back at Stefn.

“Someone’s out there.”

Focus returned, but slowly. It felt as if he hadn’t slept a wink. Michael got up and went to the mouth of the cave. The quiet

morning echoed with the clop of hooves and rattle of loose stone rol ing down the bank toward the marsh. After a moment, he

relaxed and stepped out into the morning sunlight, waving toward the riders approaching from the north. “Chris! Over here!”

Chris spurred his horse forward, cantering along the foot of the cliffs to the cave.

“Thank Loth!” he said, dismounting. A handful of guards accompanied him, coming along the narrow, treacherous path with

more caution.

“We feared the worst when the wave struck!” Chris clapped him on the shoulder, relief plain in his blue eyes.

“Was Blackmarsh House affected? What of the vil ages?”

“It never made it that far. By the time the wave got to the north marsh it was little more than a large swel . There were no

deaths or injuries, but I’ve heard Fenery and Wil owton were flooded and acres of peatland are likely saturated. If they don’t drain

before the ground freezes, there wil be a much smal er harvest this year than we’d planned.”

No one was dead. Michael’s relief made him weak kneed. Chris frowned and inquired if he was al right. “You got caught in it,

too, from the looks of you both.”

“It was interesting,” agreed Michael with a warning look at Eldering. “I admit. I’m looking forward to a bath and a very long nap.

”

Chris ordered two of his men to give up their horses. “As to such a hope,” he said, getting back into the saddle, “we have a

problem. We’ve got bloody Hunters demanding permission to search the estate for escaped Penitents. Father’s too il to speak to

them, and they won’t leave at my say-so, damn them!”

“It’s harassment and nothing less. They know Grandfather doesn’t permit h’nara hunting.”

“This isn’t the usual set of bastards. They’re fresh from Zelenov and I’d swear their commander is just waiting for the excuse to

do as he wishes, Covenant be damned! If Grandfather were back, he’d send them off quickly enough, but we’ve not heard a word of

him since before you went charging off, accusing him of abducting… ” Chris broke off, looking over Michael’s shoulder to Stefn

before fixing an accusing glare on Michael. “Which brings us to — what the bloody hel has been going on? Where is the Old Man?

Did you find him? And don’t think I’ve forgotten — you hit me!”

“In the delta, yes and I’m sorry.” Michael nudged his horse forward. “You left the house unguarded with Hunters in the area?”

“Of course not! Marin is in charge. Stil , I’l feel much better when we’re home again.”

“You say these Hunters are from Zelenov?”

“They’ve just been stationed at Creighton Abbey.”

Michael frowned, stopping his horse to stare at Chris. “Creighton? Since when?”

“Since two weeks ago, according to my information. Rumor says the Celestials didn’t care for Abbot Bel ’s “soft” attitude

toward h’nara so he was sent to Zelenov for prayer and reflection.” Chris smiled bitterly. “They’ve declared the Abbey a Cathedral

and replaced him with a bishop. I hear his sermons are fil ed with lies about us.”

Michael didn’t like the sound of it. Creighton had been a mid-sized abbey serving a col ection of far-flung rural vil ages. Why

go to the trouble and expense of upgrading it? “Who’s the new bishop?”

“Merith Rayfir.”

Michael did not recognize the name, but he intended to make inquiries as soon as he returned to Shia. The notion of a new

Hunter presence in the long-neglected western hinterlands made him uneasy.

He fended off Chris’ questions during the ride back, frustrating his brother to the point of sputtering silence. He needed more

sleep, damn it! Where the hel was the old man? Had Michael been lucky enough to catch him with the wave?

Stefn, whose sleep had been natural and refreshing, was noticeably alert. He said nothing, riding slightly behind the brothers.

More than once, the feeling of eyes on his back made Michael look over his shoulder, usual y to catch Stefn looking quickly away.

Shortly before sunset, they climbed up onto the causeway, tired and hungry, only to find Hunters mil ing about at the bottom of

the hil . Chris swore and rode to confront them. At once, the soldiers formed a line, forcing Chris to draw up short.

“By the Covenant, you have no jurisdiction on this land,” he shouted at them. “Where’s your commander?”

“He ain’t here,” one of the Hunters shouted back. “He went up to see His Grace. You can al just wait ‘til he’s done.”

Michael was tired and angry at their presumption. How dare they set foot, uninvited, on Arranz land? He turned his head and

murmured a spel . It was a smal witch-charm, nothing more, but it was enough to spook the Hunters’ horses to stamping and

rearing. In the ensuing commotion, he nodded to Chris, who grinned. They rode through the confusion and on up the hil .

Four Hunters waited on the drive before the mansion’s front door. An officer wearing the stars of a lieutenant saw them and

reached for his sword, striding forward to meet them. “Hold!” His gaze glanced off Michael’s hair. “Your Grace, I presume?”

Michael didn’t dismount, but looked down at the lieutenant coldly. “You’re in violation of the First Covenant, Hunter,” he said.

“Take your men and leave our land at once!”

“Your Grace, we believe there are Penitents hiding in the marsh and… ”

“Irrelevant. The First Covenant makes no exceptions. This land is sovereign by order and decree of St. Aramis himself.

Chasing down escaped slaves is hardly an excuse for breaking the law.”

“Slaves, Your Grace?” The lieutenant was offended. “They’re nothing of the kind! They are Penitents, sinners who made a

solemn vow of service to the Church in exchange for salvation! Simply because, in a moment of weakness and sin, a few seek to

break that vow… ”

“A vow they were tortured into making!” burst out Chris.

The Hunter’s jaw tightened. “For some h’nara, sir, the evil desires caused by their naran blood is the torture! In the end, such

fugitives always thank us for saving them from themselves.”

“I doubt that,” said Michael. “Regardless, I insist you leave at once.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” the lieutenant replied, “but I must insist… ”

“That was not a request, Lieutenant!” Michael turned to Chris. “Summon the guard.”

“Final y,” muttered Chris. With a short nod, he wheeled his horse around and rode off, disappearing around the side of the

house. The lieutenant frowned, watching him go. “Your Grace… ”

“You are in violation of the First Covenant,” Michael repeated. “You wil leave now, or under armed escort. The choice is yours.

”

The officer thought about it and reached the correct conclusion. He didn’t much like it, judging from his sour expression, but he

bowed stiffly. “As you wish, Your Grace. Rest assured, however, I wil bring this matter to the attention of the Council. We wil not

tolerate your defiance forever!” Shouting to his men, they mounted up and trotted off.

Chris returned in time to see them disappear through the gates and down the hil . He looked disappointed at their easy

capitulation. “They’re getting bolder. Next time, though, they may not mistake you for Grandfather.”

“Next time, the old man had better be here, where he belongs.”

Chris gave him a puzzled look, but Michael wasn’t in the mood to explain. He yawned.

The front door flew open and Marin came out. He carried a large pike and scowled after the Hunters. A wide-eyed Annie

peeked out from behind him. “Are they gone?”

“Aye.”

She flew out and down the steps to the drive. “Thank Loth, you’re safe! When we heard about the wave, I was so frightened!”

Michael, dismounting, reeled under her exuberant hug. “Of course, we’re al right! See? Not only are we unharmed, we’re

starving and filthy and in desperate need of your domestic talents.”

“Ooh!” Her eyes lit up. Michael watched her gaze slide to Stefn who, in spite of his dishevelment, was stil damnably pretty. “I’l

have Betty fix something straightaway and have water heated for baths. What in the world happened to you? Did you get caught in

it? Was it terrifying? It’s so strange, a wave this time of year. Betty said it was an evil omen, then those horrid soldiers came. What

did they… ”

Michael let her words wash over them and hustle them up the steps, into the house. She ran off to see to the servants, stil

cal ing questions after him, while he continued up the stairs to Stefn’s room.

“In,” he ordered.

Stefn walked through the door without looking back. Michael shut it after him. He reached automatical y for the key, then