Destiny (33 page)

‘Would you care for a stroll in the gardens? They are especially fragrant at night.’ He picked up two refreshed glasses of wine to take with them.

It meant leaving his chambers which was a reassuring thought. ‘I would,’ she replied, looking towards her sleeping pup.

‘Pelyss will be safe here,’ he said.

So, he intended bringing her back to his rooms, she realised sadly. She was not going to be released from her fate. She nodded and even dared take his proffered
arm as he led her towards the stone stairs which would take them into the gardens below. They strolled through the rose gardens and then the orchard in silence. It was not uncomfortable but Lauryn could not relax as she knew he had intended she might, but to reassure him of her quiet pleasure, she allowed him to guide her with his arm and she even leaned against him and laughed gently when he helped her across a small pond with stepping stones.

He led her towards a bench in an enclosed formal herb garden with a wall of heavy-scented honeysuckle which added a special lustre to the various fragrances which permeated the mild night.

‘I like it here most of all.’ These were his first words since leaving the balcony. ‘I hope you don’t mind if we sit a while?’ He handed her one of the glasses.

‘Not at all,’ Lauryn said, taking a sip, knowing every moment here was one less spent beneath his body. ‘It’s very beautiful. Your Ryk must enjoy all these wonderful herbs for his dishes.’

He nodded and pulled a face. ‘Beware that Pelyss does not take his daily ablutions in here.’

She laughed. ‘I’ll be watchful.’

After another long silence which Lauryn was now finding hard to fathom he sighed and said: ‘Tell me about my brother.’

This was her biggest surprise so far that night. Lauryn took a deep breath and considered what she should say. She would have to be careful for he could be deliberately leading her into a trap; goading her into spilling information he could use against them. She began by describing Tor to his elder brother in as much detail as she
could recall, from his impossibly blue eyes to his manner of speaking.

He did not interrupt her.

‘Talking to you now, you remind me of him,’ she said, not wishing to say any more about her father, lest it be dangerous. It was the only phrase she had uttered in the past few minutes which she had not carefully considered.

He was thoughtfully twirling his glass of wine, the buttery yellow liquid glinting in the bright moonlight.

‘We shall meet soon and try to destroy one another,’ he said, no emotion in his voice. He was simply stating a fact.

Again she said what came to mind, knowing it was fraught with danger. ‘Why must it be so?’

‘It is.’ He shrugged, his eyes firmly looking down.

Lauryn leapt towards this sensitive moment. ‘You are blood. Does that count for anything?’

His voice was smooth. ‘You have not suffered as I have.’

‘But my father is not the reason for your suffering.’

He lifted the glass to his lips and drained it. ‘He is all I have to level my despair at.’

‘And by killing him, killing me…will that restore you?’

He finally turned a large and sorrowful violet gaze towards her. ‘I will not kill you, Lauryn.’

She held his intensity with her own look directly into his eyes so that he knew she meant what she was about to say. ‘Well, I shall do everything in my power to kill you and to stop you hurting my family.’

‘I know,’ he said, in something close to a sad whisper. And then he leaned forward to kiss her so very softly. In
those fleeting moments of his kiss she sensed his fierce affection for her. There was something else, too, and she prolonged his withdrawal from her mouth trying to figure what it was. She probed and in that moment of his weakness she glimpsed an internal battle. She did not know what it was or why but she could somehow tell that Orlac desperately wanted to be the person he was with her but something inside him wanted him to be the opposite. She felt him push back at something sinister, deciding it must be his darker side wanting to wreak the revenge he had lusted after for so many centuries.

He pulled away. ‘It is late,’ he said. ‘I imagine Juno and Titus will be heartsick by now. I see they are already as smitten with you as—’ He did not finish what he was going to say. Instead, he stood. ‘I must let you get back to your rooms.’

Lauryn was too terrified to say the wrong thing, which might make him change his mind. Could she really be this lucky to escape the nightmare?

He helped her to her feet and then bowed courteously to touch her hand, this time with his lips. ‘Thank you for allowing me to kiss you.’ A fleeting smile touched his mouth and then it was gone. ‘I shall send Pelyss immediately. Your chambers are that way,’ he said, pointing towards a lit wing.

And then he was gone, long legs striding back upstairs. Lauryn sat down on the bench again, her feelings churning, knowing her knees trembled too much to walk anywhere. She had escaped. And Orlac had allowed her to. He was an enigma to her. Worse…she no longer felt contempt or disgust…not even fear. All she felt for him was pity.

Finally returning to her chambers, she was greeted sombrely by Juno and Adongo, both with fearful expressions full of anticipation of what she might have endured these past hours.

We did not want to disturb your thoughts, child
, Juno whispered gently into her mind explaining the lack of their Link.
Are you in pain?

Lauryn shook her head, too numb from her jumbled feelings to speak with them.

Come, we have drawn a deep and scented bath for you.

Still unable to find the right pattern of thought, she remained silent. They took it as despair and helped her towards the warm water which might wash Orlac from her body.

For the next three nights Orlac and Lauryn dined together and strolled the gardens. On each of those occasions, Orlac was charming and attentive and Lauryn said to a confused pair of Paladin that she would be lying if she did not admit she was enjoying these evenings. She went so far as to comment that she looked forward to the time she spent with him. Neither Adongo nor Juno could understand Orlac’s actions. Both had expected the worst, that he would force himself upon Lauryn leaving her a broken woman. It was beyond their comprehension that he would woo Lauryn and, worse, that she was reacting towards him with an unwitting friendship. Juno sensed Lauryn had begun to pity the god. If only she knew what they had been through to be here now, Lauryn would not pity him, she would despise him. But Juno understood the clever machinations of the god’s mind. This must be a ruse.

Adongo agreed. He went so far as to suggest that it was only a matter of time before the calm before the storm broke.

He was right.

Locky rode like the wind, stopping only to feed and water his horse. He slept for snatched periods in bushes and lived off the supplies he found stashed in his saddlebags. Mostly, though, he fed off his determination to succeed in this task and rid himself of the guilt that he had survived whilst Eryn and Quist had died. And so he drove himself and his horse grimly towards Caradoon with the single aim of getting there in time to meet with King Gyl.

Luck rode with him. Locky wiped the dust from his eyes and slowed his mount as they entered Caradoon proper. He could see the small town had swelled dramatically in population and the oriflamme of King Gyl flew brightly along the streets which seemed to be owned by the royal guard. A smirk crossed his face as he wondered whether the Caradoons had gone into hiding. They would not be enjoying such attention from Tallinese rulemakers, nor would they relish the scrutiny of the King himself, known as a fair player who ruthlessly pursued lawbreakers in his role as Under Prime.

Locky took a deep breath. He had done it. He had kept his promise to Tor and he had made it to Caradoon on time. He got off his horse and led a thankful mount through the town towards the brothel he once called
home. Assuming the inn was still operating, he did not want to meet any of the girls, so he skulked around to the back where he found fresh hay and sweet oats for his courageous horse. He watered the mare and took a few minutes to rub her down, remembering Saxon’s warnings to always take care of his horse first. As he did so, he wondered about the brothel, realising it was now his. With Eryn and Quist dead, there was no one else. Well, he could pursue that later. Now he must find the King. Without even wetting his face, he sneaked back into the town looking for a way to win a meeting with the sovereign.

He asked directions from several soldiers, most of whom just stopped short of giving him a cuff to his head. King indeed! However, the last man he spoke to looked like an old campaigner and through squinted eyes he regarded the youngster who stood before him.

‘Looks like you’ve done some riding, lad.’ His voice was gruff.

‘I’ve ridden from the midlands, hardly pausing.’

‘You’re in a hurry, then,’ he said, scratching at his beard, ‘to see the King I mean?’

‘I have to speak with him. I have news he must hear.’

The old fellow could see the lad was as exhausted as he was dusty and hungry. ‘Over there,’ he said pointing towards a dwelling in the distance which Locky knew had been vacant for years, ‘is where the Prime has set himself up. You talk to him and it’s as good as having the ear of the King.’

Locky’s face lit. The Prime! Those two words had more effect on him than the notion of meeting the King. ‘Will he agree to meet with me?’

‘Ah, now that I can’t answer. I can only point you in the right direction, boy. ’S’up to you to do the rest.’

Locky thanked the older man who moved on, wishing him luck over his shoulder. Locky turned to watch the house from where the Prime was operating. There were men coming and going constantly. Obviously messages were moving frantically back and forth through the chain of command which stopped in that house where the senior commander now gave his orders. Locky swallowed. He must impress this man. With that thought gripped firmly in his mind he walked towards the house and was promptly stopped by two guards.

‘Ho, lad. You’re not allowed in here,’ one said.

‘I was told I might speak with Prime Herek.’

‘Oh? By whom? His mother perhaps?…because I think that’s the only person who can still wield that sort of power in his life.’

They both laughed at the jest. Locky was unmoved.

He took a deep, steadying breath. ‘A soldier said I could get an audience with the King if I spoke with the Prime first.’

Now the guards were hugely amused. ‘Oh, it’s the King now? Well, lad…why didn’t you say so! Of course the King will see you. He’s got nothing better to do than take drinks and sweet pastries with a stripling like you.’

The other guard poked him. ‘Go on, lad, be off with you. This is serious business we’re about here.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m here trying to speak with my sovereign about matters relating to this serious business you speak of.’ He kept his voice steady and stern.

The joking had stopped.

‘I won’t tell you again,’ one of the guards said. ‘Leave now or we’ll tan your backside for you.’

‘You may care to try that but then the King won’t get his message from his mother, which I alone bring.’

They snorted. ‘King’s Mother eh?’ one said.

He nodded.

The other one boxed his ear and Locky fell to the ground. ‘The King’s Mother is at a convent outside of the city recuperating from her loss, you hairy-arsed vagabond. She wouldn’t be talking to the likes of you,’ said the man who had hit him.

Locky’s left ear sang a song all of its own. He shook his head to stop the strange sound.

‘Hey, you guards, leave the boy alone.’ It was the old soldier. He helped Locky back to his feet. ‘I thought they might do something like this.’ He looked back at the guards. ‘Give him a chance and do as he bids. You know we’ve been told we need all the information we can get and the King won’t thank you if you turn valuable knowledge away.’

The guards looked sceptical. ‘We have our orders,’ one said.

‘What would it hurt? Just ask the question.’

The other guard shrugged and trudged towards the house.

‘Tell them I can prove it,’ Locky called after him. He turned to the soldier. ‘Thanks.’

‘You can buy me an ale later,’ the man replied.

The guard returned not long afterwards and shoved Locky towards the house. ‘You’ve got one minute to explain yourself.’

Locky turned back to the old campaigner. ‘Wish me luck.’

‘Already have,’ the fellow said and watched Locky make his way to the door.

Inside was a queue of men receiving orders. Locky could not see the Prime but he could hear voices raised—he wondered which of those was Herek’s.

‘Wait here,’ a soldier said, pointing him back to the wall just inside the door.

He did as told, trying to neaten himself but his efforts were in vain. The soldier had returned and was beckoning at him. ‘One minute is all you have.’

‘So I’ve been told,’ Locky murmured and followed.

They pushed through the men crowding the desk until Locky found himself face-to-face with the man he had dreamed of meeting. Herek was thin and of medium height but it was clear who commanded respect in this room. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet. He regarded the dust-encrusted lad in front of him. ‘How long have you ridden, boy?’

Locky knew his time was short and he had to make a good fist of this meeting. It would not do to cringe or be overawed by the moment. ‘Three days, sir.’

‘From?’

‘The Great Forest, Prime Herek.’

‘Alone?’

‘I rode alone, yes, sir. I was not alone in the Forest, sir. I was with Torkyn Gy—’

Herek cut him off, gave some signal and men began to disperse. He looked at Locky and raised a finger very slightly. It told Locky to be still whilst certain ears were present. A few moments later, with
the room they were in now fairly empty, the Prime addressed him again.

‘We speak freely now. Have a seat.’

Locky was grateful for it and even more surprised when Herek himself poured a mug of water and handed it to him. ‘Here, drink this down and then we’ll talk. Have you eaten?’