Nightbound (3 page)

“Good evening, Captain.” Jayr smiled at his respectful bow. “All is well with the garrison?”

Once Harlech tracked down his missing swordsman, and clouted some sense back into his head, it would be. “Aye, my lady.”

The shrewd eyes of Jayr’s towering companion scanned the ranks. “You’ve changed the formation.”

“Clever,” Jayr said before Harlech could reply. “With the lines staggered I can see all of the men’s faces. I need not walk the ranks.” She lifted a hand to shade her eyes against the glare from the floods. “I cannot say I care for these new lights, however. Who ordered them installed?”

“Accounting, my lady,” Harlech said. “They are called ‘energy-efficient,’ and as such should reduce our power tithes by a fourth.”

“Power bills,” Jayr corrected, and turned to Byrne. “What do you think, Aedan?”

Byrne turned and squinted at the lights. “Smash the bloody things before our eyeballs commence to sizzle.”

Harlech squared his shoulders. “It shall be as you say, Seneschal, but…” He paused as he glanced past Jayr’s shoulder to see Rainer float up into the air over the heads of the garrison. Since only Beaumaris had the ability to move anything living in such a manner, it seemed his missing warrior had at last reported for duty. “…Ah, we might remove them instead and bid the maintenance
crew to install them inside, where the humans work.” As Rain floated back down to his proper place in the back ranks, Harlech gestured toward the administrative offices. “’Twould save the cost of the bulbs, much shattered glass, and doubtless mollify accounting.”

When Harlech turned back to the garrison, Beaumaris stood between Ponsworth and Lowell as if he’d never moved from the spot, his eyes fixed on some point beyond their lady and her seneschal.

“A wise thought. See to it, then, Captain.” Jayr stepped forward and gave the garrison her attention. “Good evening, lads. Now that the winter tournament is over, we have two weeks left to finish the renovations before the staff returns from holiday. The council is sending some prospects to me in hopes of filling our need for a
tresora
to the
jardin
, so I shall be occupied with these mortals. You’ve done well preparing the keep and the grounds for the spring tourist season. When you have completed your nightly tasks this fortnight next, your time is your own.” As the men cheered, she held up the scroll she carried. “Before you hatch plans to search every acre from here to Valdosta, I would first read you this.”

Harlech frowned as Jayr unrolled the parchment and read the summons from Richard Tremayne. It was the second in as many months from the high lord of the Darkyn, but the message this time contained only disappointment. The treasure hunt Tremayne had announced in October had been called off; the gems he had set the Kyn to find had been destroyed during a battle with a rogue Kyn in South Florida. Rule of Ireland, the prize that the high lord had offered, would be decided by other means.

“I am sorry about the lost opportunity, lads. I would
have been proud to see any one of you made lord paramount.” Jayr finished reading and rolled up the summons, handing it to Harlech. “If you would, Captain, please post this in the commons so the men who are off duty may read it at their leisure.”

“Aye, my lady.” He tucked it into his tunic.

Jayr smiled at the men. “Beaumaris, I would have a word, please. The rest of you are dismissed.”

As the other men dispersed and Beau approached, Harlech quickly inspected his errant warrior. Beau’s clothing did not appear disordered, and he did not detect the scent of a mortal female on him. The pale cast of his skin suggested he had not yet fed, and he displayed no visible wounds. Only his brown hair, which still sported the golden sun streaks he’d acquired as a mortal, looked slightly tangled. Harlech met Beau’s gaze, and saw nothing but fixed boredom.

Harlech had been Beau’s foster brother when they had been human boys; he knew what that indifferent flatness meant.
Something troubling has happened.

“You did not have to hurry back so quickly,” Jayr was saying to Beau. She glanced at Harlech and explained, “I summoned Beau to my office before sunset. Tremayne called for him.”

Harlech barely managed to keep the shock from his face. “The high lord wished to speak to Beau directly? Why?”

“He wouldnae say. But he was no his usual snaky self about it. ‘Bring Beaumaris of York to the phone at once,’ Byrne said. Then he bid us go so they might speak alone.” Byrne regarded Beau. “I never knew you to be one of Richard’s creatures, Beau.”

He’d been a fool to report for duty, Beaumaris decided, just as he’d been an idiot earlier to answer the call from the high lord. Now, with three of the Kyn he most respected staring at him as if he’d sprouted a second skull, he could think of a dozen ways he might have prevented this.

All useless to him now. “I gave my oath to you, my lord, and then my lady,” Beau said, unable to keep the irony out of his tone. “If I am anyone’s creature, it is
yours
.”

“I do not question your loyalty, Beau,” Jayr said firmly. “Nor should we leap to any conclusions when Richard is involved. Did the high lord give you leave to tell us what he wanted with you?”

Richard Tremayne had instructed him as to
exactly
what to tell the others. “It seems there is a secret clutch of traitors in our midst. The high lord believes them to be renegade
tresori
who have been turned against us. Already they have attempted to murder several Kyn lords and sentinels, and frame a member of the council for the crimes. Our lord thinks them here now, in our territory, searching for the gems.” He glanced at Jayr. “The emeralds were not destroyed by the skirmish in the south, as the high lord would have everyone think. They remain hidden, somewhere in our territory.”

Byrne’s lips peeled back from his
dents acérées
. “Harlech, cancel the men’s leave. We have turncoats to hunt.”

Beau shook his head. “Lord Tremayne desires this to be handled discreetly. I am commanded to go and infiltrate a group of mortals being used by the traitors to locate the gems. He bids me persuade them to reveal the
identity of their ringleader, who I am to capture and deliver to him.”

“That sounds more like Tremayne,” Jayr murmured, her expression thoughtful. “But why does he command this of you, Beau?”

The suzeraina trusted him, Beau realized, because she had no reason not to. No one among his Kyn had any inkling of how long he had deceived them. For a moment he wished the earth would sprout a sinkhole to whisk him to hell.

“I daresay the high lord is aware that Beau knows our territory better than any member of the
jardin
,” Harlech said before Beau could compose an adequate reply. “He came here a century before the rest of us.” He gave Beau a hard look. “You were one of the first
jardin
in America, were you not?”

“Aye.” That much was the truth, and might serve as the reason Tremayne had selected him for this duty. The high lord had not actually troubled himself to explain his choice, and as a mere
jardin
warrior Beau could not question the Kyn’s supreme ruler. He still felt a pressing suspicion as to Tremayne’s motives; something in the tone of the high lord’s silky voice had not set well with him.

“Who is this group of mortals, and how are you to infiltrate them?” Jayr asked him.

“They are archaeologists from a northern university who are performing an excavation to the west of the city. The high lord has arranged a position for me as their manager.” He knew next to nothing about digging in the dirt for old bones and such, but he could glean some of
the basics from the Internet. “He also directs me to keep close watch over a Dr. Al Stuart, the man in charge of this project. Apparently his knowledge of the Templars puts him in some particular danger.”

“So he orders you to skulk about, guard mortals, and spy on traitors, when we could track and kill them in a few hours.” Byrne sounded disgusted. “Tremayne has finally gone completely daft. We must call Michael.”

“I would rather we not.” Jayr put her hand on her lover’s forearm. “We have nothing to offer the seigneur but doubts and rumors, and our own suspicions. If we must consult Cyprien on the matter, I wish to present facts and evidence.”

“What of this ringleader Beau is to catch?” Harlech asked. “I have no doubt he will snare him, but what is to be done then?”

Jayr faced Beau, her dark eyes intent on his. “I know you are under the high lord’s orders, and as such I am loath to ask this of you, but…when you find this traitor, will you first bring him to us, that we might question him?”

That she would make it a request instead of an order humbled him all over again. “My lady, my faith is ever with
you
.” Beau bowed his head. “You have but to say, and it shall be done.”

She touched his shoulder in a rare gesture of affection. “I thank you, Beau.” She turned to Byrne. “’Tis likely this traitor is some mortal made unhappy by the Kyn, I think. But if there is more to it, we must know before we turn him over to Tremayne.”

“You were never this devious when you were my seneschal,” Byrne muttered.

“And if I was, how would you know?” Jayr slipped her arm through his. “Now come. We must ride out and inspect the landscaping. I fear that freeze last night may have finished off the roses at the entry gate.”

Harlech said nothing as Jayr and Byrne left for the stables, but once they were out of hearing range, he swore viciously.

Beau dragged his hand through his hair. “You share my sentiments, brother.”

“However this is played, no good will come of it.” Harlech eyed him. “I know you to be secretive, Beau. Were you once sworn to Sherwood? Is that why Tremayne presses you into his service?”

All the members of Sherwood
jardin
had been executed for conspiring against Richard and slaughtering the innocent and helpless during the
jardin
wars. Only Harlech’s wife, Viviana, and Rainer had escaped death and treachery, first by running away from their
jardin
, and then by concealing their origins altogether.

“After I rose to walk the night, I served in the London garrison,” Beau said stiffly. “I was sent to the New World to procure property and goods. I liked the life here, so I later petitioned him to be released from my oath, that I might serve Lord Byrne. You may call upon the Seigneur Geoffrey at your leisure to verify my claims.”

“Do not take that tone with me, lad,” Harlech warned. “You and I were mortal brothers.”

“You were the son of the house, and I the orphan whose care was thrust upon it.” As soon as he spoke, Beau regretted his words. “Forgive me. Your family, your father, they treated me as their own flesh and blood. I but yearned for what could never be mine.”

What would never have been his, had his foster family ever suspected they shared their hearth and home with the son of an English Crusader, and a Saracen whore.

“Think no more of it. I do not envy you this damnable mess.” Harlech clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Come. I shall help you gather what you will need for your journey.”

T
he Jade Palms definitely lived up to its marketing, Alys decided as she walked through the enormous lobby toward the reception desk.

The hotel’s facilities occupied acres of what had once been central Florida swampland, now transformed into graceful landscaping embracing an international resort. According to the information package the foundation had sent to her, the hotel offered a multilevel Fitness and Wellness Center, five Olympic-standard pools, two movie theaters, a private river winding through a PGA-scale executive golf course, and various other amusements and amenities. The resort’s restaurants, of which there were nine, ranged from a casual Italian bistro to a five-star formal dining room enclosed by glass walls and a skylight in the atrium.

Designed to impress,
Alys thought as she glanced up at the lobby’s centerpiece, a three-story, stainless-steel sculpture fountain.
Whoever digs it up in a thousand years will probably decide it was a mass burial tomb for
pilgrims who came to worship the Great God Disney, Lord of the Kingdom of Mice.

Arriving at the hotel marked the point of no return for Alys, and while her heart wanted to dance, the enormity of the task ahead kept her excitement and her emotions in check. Over the next thirty days she’d either make a name for herself by unearthing evidence of her unorthodox theories or dig a grave for her already-dubious reputation and fledgling career. She’d talked her way onto this tightrope of a project, stretching her professional life between triumph and disaster; now she had to keep a cool head while walking it.

This is what Robert wanted me to do,
Alys reminded herself. Although she’d never spent much time with her legal guardian, he had provided her with the finest education in the world, and the guidance she’d needed to make something of herself. Out of gratitude she’d always tried to live up to his expectations. Robert’s tragic death in a car accident hadn’t changed that; if anything, she felt even more determined to prove his faith in her had been justified.