Exile's Return (Book 1) (37 page)

Nash had not fought today, although he had for the last two. This morning he waited on the King with a jewelled goblet of wine and a slip of snowy white linen. He stood in the doorway of the pavilion, erected for the sole purpose of giving Selar somewhere from which to watch this event when he wasn’t taking part. In the centre of the courtyard, Selar sparred with Kandar. Although Nash knew the Earl to be a fine swordsman, he could see George was not performing at his best. More than once Selar was able to slip through his guard to nick the point of his sword against Kandar’s gleaming chain mail.

‘Deep thoughts?’ a sensuous voice murmured in his ear. ‘Do you envy the young Earl and how close he is to your dear friend? Do you not wish to be so close to him yourself?’

Nash smiled, knowing she couldn’t see the expression. ‘Your obscene suggestions do not do you justice, my dear. You would be wise to keep them to yourself.’

‘I can’t help it. Just seeing the way you watch them puts these thoughts into my head. For all your fine talk of power, is there not something else you want? Is there no other reason why you share every waking moment with the King?’

Languidly, Nash placed the cup of wine on the small table by his elbow and turned to look at her. Her face was
composed with serious concern but her eyes danced and reflected hints of sunlight. She slowly smiled.

‘And are you going to tell me that you are suddenly jealous?’ Nash murmured. ‘After all this time?’

‘Jealous? No. But Samdon, you know I don’t trust you. I’ve told you a thousand times. After five years, you should know I mean what I say.’

Nash stepped forward and she backed away further into the shadows of the pavilion. ‘Perhaps you would like to leave me. Is that it? Do you want to return to your brothers and sisters? Do you miss the Malachi so much? Do you regret leaving their narrow ambition for the sake of my grand one?’ He laughed and bent his head to kiss her smooth white throat. ‘Ah, Valena, if only you would leave me. Then you wouldn’t be such a distraction to me.’

She laughed and moved closer, breathing close to his ear. ‘Yes, I’m so much of a distraction that the moment I return you ignore me. I’ve been back two weeks and you haven’t even asked me about my trip, not even to ask if I had a good Caslemas.’

Nash gazed down at her and noted every curve and line of her beautiful face. His hand came up and delicately traced the edge of her bodice where it met her flesh. Automatically, he sent his senses out into the courtyard, but the King was still fighting and no one was paying Nash any attention at all. He smiled again. ‘I assumed, my dear, that if there was anything terribly important, you would come to me immediately.’

‘Then you assume too much on my part. Returning in itself was important, don’t you think?’

He couldn’t help but laugh. She was so very good at this. So skilled in the fine art of seduction. No wonder the Malachi wanted her back. Without doubt she was one of their finest – but that was also the reason why he wanted her. Because he appreciated her much more than they ever could.

‘So then, what did you find out about our renegade Earl?
Is he planning treason? Is he any threat to Selar – and therefore to us?’

Valena gently removed his hand from her breast and stepped back a little. Her face lost that enticing smile and instead became immediately more practical. ‘I think he’s a spent cause. He’s weary of the fight and has no desire to be involved with it again. He’ll stay at home, I promise you. As far as he is concerned, your position is secure.’

‘But?’ Nash queried with a raised eyebrow.

‘He has a younger brother, Finnlay. I don’t know that it’s important, but he does have an interest in the history of sorcery.’

‘Really?’ Nash breathed. ‘And do you think he has any power?’

‘No. He’s just an interested amateur. Besides, I thought you picked up all the possible candidates years ago. At least, that’s what you told me. Can you have missed anyone?’

‘No,’ Nash shook his head, ‘I spent five years scanning Lusara before I even began taking them. I know I collected every child with powers from a major House who was born at the time. There may be others since then, but they don’t matter. My father’s instructions were quite clear. It is this generation that is the most dangerous. Any following are of no consequence.’

Nash broke off and glanced over his shoulder. ‘You’d better leave. He’s coming in for refreshment and I don’t want him to see you. Not yet.’

‘I’ll wait for you tonight,’ she murmured in farewell, once more in her most sensuous voice.

She was gone just as Selar strode into the pavilion, tossing his sword on a chair and sweeping up the goblet of wine Nash held out. Following close on his heels were Vaughn and Osbert.

‘Forgive me, Sire,’ Vaughn began with little flourish, ‘I must speak with you.’

‘What is it?’ Selar frowned, appearing entirely disinterested.

‘That matter we spoke of some weeks ago?’

‘What matter?’

‘Evidence, Sire.’ Vaughn smiled. ‘I have it.’

*

It was not so much the abrupt appearance of Vaughn that caught Rosalind’s attention, but the sudden exit from the pavilion, the abandonment of sparring practice for the day. Younger knights continued to work in the centre of the yard, but Selar and his favourites disappeared through the doorway below her open balcony without even a word of explanation.

Not that Selar needed to explain anything. He was, after all, the King and could do what he liked. Even if it meant locking up a properly anointed Bishop! No matter that he’d committed no crime …

‘Forgive me, Your Grace.’ A quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Do you expect the King to return to the yard today?’

Rosalind turned slowly. Her ladies were not so close to her that they could hear every word of this conversation. They stood by the door apparently ignoring Rosalind and the priest now standing before her. Godfrey waited with his hands clasped patiently together, his eyebrows raised slightly as though in perpetual surprise. He neither smiled nor grimaced, but rather gazed at her openly, begging a trust she could only dare to believe.

‘It is … possible,’ Rosalind replied after a moment, keeping her voice clearly audible, ‘he may return. I’m not sure. Was there something …?’

She swallowed carefully and tried not to appear nervous. She’d not spoken alone with this man since that night when she’d stolen out of the castle to warn him of Vaughn’s plans with the hospices.

Godfrey seemed to sense her agitation and smiled gently. ‘I was hoping to beg for another audience with Bishop McCauly … I mean, Archdeacon McCauly.’

Rosalind couldn’t hide a little smile at the deliberate mistake. It appeared there was a small joke they could share between them, even with the ladies present. ‘Of course,
Deacon. I’m sure the King would listen to your petition. I’m also sure that the Archdeacon would be grateful for another visit.’

‘I was hoping to bring him the Sacraments, Your Grace. If I could perhaps convince the King to allow me to celebrate Mass in the cell each week …’ Godfrey’s voice trailed off, dropping to merely a whisper, then, ‘Please – you will let me know if you think McCauly is in any immediate danger, won’t you?’

Rosalind’s eyes snapped to the women by the door. They were chatting between themselves, but very aware of Rosalind’s guest. ‘But what danger?’ she stammered, turning her attention back to Godfrey.

‘From the King,’ Godfrey replied quickly. ‘If you hear anything at all, please find a way to let me know. I don’t know if I can do anything – but I can at least try.’

Would Selar actually try to kill McCauly while in prison? It didn’t seem possible – and yet … Rosalind breathed deeply and nodded. ‘Of course, Deacon. I promise.’

*

‘I’ve waited too long for this, Vaughn. You told me this would only take a few weeks!’ Selar splashed more water on his face, then took the towel from Nash’s hands and moved over to the fire. The King’s chamber was quite chilly and Nash put another log on to the small blaze.

‘The situation has been very delicate, Sire,’ Vaughn insisted. ‘More delicate than we realized in the beginning. If we pushed too hard they might have known what was happening.’

Selar tossed the towel away and folded his arms. ‘Very well, tell me. What is Blair planning? What is your evidence?’

‘A letter, Sire, from Blair to one of his neighbours. They have already set up garrisons around Dunwyn and further afield. By the summer they will cordon the area off and allow no admittance to anyone. After that, having gained support from the rest of the country, they plan to march against you.’

Selar nodded slowly. ‘And how did you get your hands on this letter? Was it your spy? Who is he?’

‘Roy Seaton, Sire.’

‘Seaton? That worm?’ Selar sank into a chair. ‘All right, who else?’

Vaughn, as though given a breath of life, took a step forward. ‘Galbraith of Lonley, Lord Eshton and his brother Clarence, Kitson, Knollys and Lacy. There are others Seaton has mentioned in previous communications. I have them noted down.’

‘I should hope so. Anyone else I should know about?’

Vaughn laced his hands together and rested them against his yellow surplice. ‘One, Sire. Oliver Sinclair, Duke of Haddon.’

Selar sat forward with a start. ‘Haddon? You can’t be serious!’

When Vaughn didn’t answer, Selar sprang to his feet and strode to the door. ‘Bates! Get Eachern and Kandar up here immediately!’

As the door shut again, Selar paced back to the fireplace. He was silent a moment, then glanced not at Vaughn but at Nash. ‘How long a ride is it to Dunwyn from here?’

‘About five days at forced march, Sire. Less if there are horses to change.’

‘Five days.’ Selar thought again. Then to Vaughn, ‘Is there any chance Blair knows about Seaton?’

‘None, Sire. Seaton is still enmeshed, along with the others. They think to catch you unawares.’

‘Then he won’t be expecting me to send a force down to meet him in the middle of spring, will he?’

Kandar and Eachern arrived and were quickly apprised of the news. Selar’s orders flew about the room like angry hornets. Eachern was to lead a force of the King’s own men, five hundred strong, supported by Vaughn’s Guilde guard of two hundred. They were to leave at dawn the following day.

‘And remember, Eachern, I want Blair and Haddon alive. I want them to stand trial and I want them to pay. No man breaks his oath to me without suffering for it! Do you
understand? As for the rest, I don’t care what you do with them – but I do care to hear there is nothing left of Dunwyn by the time you leave. Go.’

The room emptied, leaving Nash alone with Selar.

‘Open those damned curtains will you? It’s too hot in here.’

Nash quietly did as he was bid, then on impulse, brought the jug of wine over to refill Selar’s cup.

‘It’s been three years,’ Selar murmured.

‘Sire?’

‘Three years – and what happens only moments after he gets back? His damned uncle gets himself embroiled in treason! You never met Dunlorn, did you?’

‘He left before I came to court.’

‘But you’ve heard stories?’

‘Who has not?’

Selar gave a bark of ironic laughter. ‘Robert, for one.’ He reached for the wine and refilled his cup again. For a moment he gazed into the dark liquid, then gently placed it on the table. ‘There are many stories – and many lies. But the truth is that I removed Dunlorn from the council more for his own safety than anything else.’

‘I understand, Sire.’

‘Do you?’ Turning a piercing grey gaze on him, Selar shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think you can.’

*

‘There she is.’

‘Where?’

‘Just passing through the gate, do you see?’

‘Oh yes. And who are the others?’

‘The raven-haired woman beside her is her sister, Bella, and the man riding in front is Bella’s husband, Lord Lawrence Maitland, a wealthy but minor baron. It’s a small train, of course, half a dozen guards and a couple of servants. I suppose they hope to keep a low profile while they’re here.’

‘It won’t do them any good.’

Nash turned away from the window and gazed down at Valena. She wore a shift of the finest gauze silk in a gentle
cream colour which set off the honey-gold of her hair to perfection. He reached out and swept a strand of it away from her face and bent to kiss her. This time, however, she made no move to encourage him.

‘Are you certain that’s her?’ Valena murmured, her eyes still on the city below.

‘I’d know her face anywhere,’ Nash replied.

‘She has no aura.’

Nash turned back to the window. ‘Of course not. Her powers are still submerged. Hell, I put enough effort into it. When they do develop you’ll be able to Seek her regardless of where she is. Hopefully, though, we’ll be able to postpone that moment for as long as possible.’

Valena nodded absently and left him by the window. Without a word, she picked up a gown of deep blue and slipped it over her head.

‘What’s wrong?’ Nash asked softly without approaching her.

‘Nothing.’

Nash glanced once more out of the window, then sat down on the padded bench. ‘Tell me.’

Valena began lacing up her gown but didn’t look at him. ‘You got Selar to order her here, didn’t you? You suggested she might be a threat to his throne if she managed to produce a male heir.’

‘Yes. What of it?’

‘Why? I thought you said it was too soon for her part in all this. So why did you want her here? What do you plan to do with her now that she’s so close?’

Nash ventured a chuckle. ‘What are you worried about? That I’ll want her to replace you?’

Valena stamped her foot, managing, despite her frown, to still look exquisite. ‘Stop it, Samdon. Just tell me the truth. Why do you want her here? Is she a danger to us? Tell me, dammit!’

Nash rose to his feet and crossed the room, ‘Don’t push me too far, Valena. I’ve warned you before.’

She pouted and dropped her chin. ‘Oh? And what will
you do to me? You’re not going to use that old threat of killing me with the Word of Destruction, are you?’

‘I could.’

‘Rubbish! You don’t even know what it is. If you did, we wouldn’t be going through this ridiculous charade. Now stop this silly game and tell me what you’re going to do.’