Oracle (3 page)

    
“Good God
Above.” Jesse clapped a hand to the side of his face. “Are you going to drag
our prior relationship into every single conversation we have from here on out?
Because if you are, then Manny and I will turn right around and go back to
Marigold. Where, I’ll remind you, we have enough king’s marks waiting for us to
have ourselves a grand old time. See if you and Ethan can get any wildling to
lead you to their most sacred temple without us.”

    
Kat
scowled. “Fine. I won’t bring it up again. But I’ll be keeping my eye on you
and anybody else who comes along. I don’t want to end up sacrificed in some weird
wildling ceremony.”

    
“Don’t
worry,” Jesse said, “they only sacrifice young, beautiful, and chaste maidens.
Leaves you out on all counts.”

    
“Well I
guess if they have a fertility ceremony they’ll know who to look for.” She
kicked her horse into a gallop.

    
Jesse
sighed as dust blew into his face. Despite her promise not to bring up their
ill fated romance again, he had a bad feeling he was yet to hear the end of it.
Women. He would never understand them. Especially
that
one.

    
Ethan
shook his head. “She really does hate you, doesn’t she?”

    
“You’re
only just noticing?” Jesse rubbed the spot between his eyes. “Women are a
nuisance.”

    
“Ah, but
they are good for a thing or two.” Ethan smiled.

    
“Which reminds
me,” Jesse said, “I don’t want you charming any ladies. Wildling men don’t look
too kindly on dalliances and I’d hate to see you lose a part of your anatomy
I’m sure you’d miss.”

    
“Don’t
worry,” Ethan said. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” He trotted his horse after
Kat’s retreating form.

    
Somehow
his assurances didn’t make Jesse feel any better. “I swear if one or the other
of them doesn’t get us all killed it’ll be a miracle. At least we don’t have
Brandon along, otherwise we’d be doomed for sure.”

    
Manny
said nothing. No surprise there, he’d not spoken a word to Jesse since they
started this thing. The wildling certainly had a right to be angry, but the
silence was starting to get to Jesse.

    
“We’d
better catch up to them.” Jesse pushed his gelding into a light canter which
Manny, who had never ridden a horse and likely never would, could easily keep
pace with on foot.

    
This part
of the Wild Lands was mostly harsh scrub land with little color. But the flat
yellow glare of the sun and the roughly warm breeze felt like paradise to
Jesse. He’d been too long trapped beneath Marigold’s gray, coal dust choked
skies. It was good to be going home. Even if not for the purest of reasons.

    
Kat and
Ethan had already tied their horses to the hitching post and entered the
building by the time Jesse reached the trading post. He swung down from his
gelding and tossed Manny the reins.

    
After all
the times Jesse had come to the trading post in his life, the building itself
felt like an old friend. Looking around, he could imagine his father’s wagon
sitting beside the old well. Could see the man’s face. Hear his laugh. Though
they weren’t father and son by blood, still he had been family. And even after
so many years those old memories could still put a knot in Jesse’s throat.

    
Inside,
the trading post was the same as always. Cramped, dimly lit, and musty. A
mongrel dog lay sprawled across the floor while a scruffy cat with half its
right ear missing glared at Jesse from the scarred counter top. Behind the
counter sat a wilding so old his dusky face was nothing
 
but a maze of wrinkles.

    
“Hello,
Pander.” Jesse stepped up to the counter, keeping a careful eye on the cat.
“Thought you’d be dead by now.”

    
The old
man snorted. “You’ll be dead long before I am.” His gaze tracked Kat and Ethan
as they perused the shelves holding the trading post’s stock. Some of which had
been sitting for so long it was no longer recognizable. “Got some new friends,
I see.”

    
“Not new,
really. Not friends either,” Jesse said. It was the first time he’d ever come
to the trading post with anyone but his father or Manny. He leaned against the
counter. “Have you any news of the village? Are they still summering in about
the same location?”

 
   
Pander scratched the side of his nose. The
tattoos on his fingers looked like so much black smudge. “Last I heard they
were a bit more east ways. Been awhile since you were there.”

    
Jesse
nodded. “Too long. I guess a little more than three years. I kept meaning to
come back, but one thing or another got in the way. How is everybody?”

    
“Fair
enough. Been a few births and a few deaths. Circle of life.”

    
“And
Nika
?”

    
“Same as
always.”

    
“Still no
husband?”

    
Pander
shrugged. “Her life belongs to the earth spirit. She says he is all the husband
she needs.”

    
“She’s
dedicated for sure.” Jesse pushed back from the counter. “It’s been nice
talking with you, old man, but I’d best be on my way.”

    
“Take
what you need.” Pander waved at the shelves.

    
“Thanks.”
Jesse got together with Kat and Ethan to gather up what supplies they would
need to make it to the village and then left the trading post.

    
“Kat, you
fill up the canteens while Manny and I pack the supplies,” Jesse said.

    
She gave
him such a look he thought she would refuse, but she didn’t say a word. She
simply gathered up the canteens and carried them over to the well. With Manny’s
help it didn’t take long to get the supplies situated in the saddlebags. Jesse
went over to Kat, thinking to himself if things between them couldn’t be the
way they were before maybe they could at least try to be civil.

    
Kat had
reached behind her head to retie the bind holding her unruly hair back from her
face. Jesse couldn’t help but admire the view as the motion caused her shirt to
press against the side of her breast. She raised a brow when she caught him
looking.

    
“Like
what you see?”

    
He
smiled. “I always did.”
     

    
“But not enough
to keep you out of the whorehouse.”
    

    
So much
for being civil. “It’s been six months,” he started gathering up the canteens,
“can’t you let it go? I’m not the one ended things between us you know. That
was all you. I was fine with things the way they were.”
        

    
“Yeah.”
Kat snatched the canteens right out of his hands. “I’m sure you were.” She
walked away, shaking her head and leaving Jesse to wonder why any attempt he
made to patch things up only made her more angry.

CHAPTER
FOUR

    
Charles
stared out through the carriage window at the trees lining the roadway. “I
cannot believe I am actually doing this.”

    
“Richard
won’t believe it either,” Victor said. “Which makes it all the more perfect. An
unexpected move will throw your enemy off balance every time.”

    
“Considering how off balance my cousin already is, I’m not certain how
wise it is to push him.” The words sounded cowardly even to Charles’ own ears.
He was not a coward, or at least he had never been before. But he was afraid.
Afraid of what Richard might do. Afraid to fail. Afraid to succeed. Afraid of
what might be happening to Anastasia and Simon. Never in his life had he been
so consumed by fear.

    
“Perhaps
your sister will fail to stop the Cataclysm,” Victor said. “Then you won’t have
to worry over your cousin.”

    
Charles
turned to find the older man smiling at him. How nice for Victor that he could
find humor in the situation. As for Charles himself, he could not manage to be
so flippant about the prospect of the world coming to an end. Especially
considering it was a good chance the only way to stop it was his sister’s
death. Nor did he feel comfortable discussing such things in front of Edward,
the young servant boy who rode in the carriage with them, staring down at a
piece of wood upon which he was carving with a small, worn dagger. A boy who
looked enough like Victor for Charles to wonder things he was far too polite to
ask aloud.

    
“I mean
no disrespect, Duke Victor,” Charles said, “but this is a situation which calls
for a bit more seriousness than you’re giving it.”

    
Victor’s
smile faded. “Do not for a moment think I do not take this seriously. Were it
up to me I would see Richard and his vile witch of a sister strung up from the
highest tree for what they did to their father. But it seems I’ll have to
settle for seeing them thrown from the castle and banished from the kingdom.
The only way I can bear this injustice is with as much humor as I can muster.”

    
“What if
I fail?” Charles asked. “What if we go up against Richard and the High Priest
makes him king in any case?”

    
“I hear
the Dells are nice this time of year. If you can get past the near constant
rains and the cesspools.”

    
Charles
grimaced. The idea of having to flee Hyacinth never to return was not in the
least appealing, though he supposed it would be preferable to whatever highly
unpleasant death his cousin was sure to have in mind for him.

    
As the
carriage started up the hill toward the castle, Charles focused on taking deep,
even breaths. It was vital he keep a clear head in the days to come. It would
not do to allow Richard to see his fear or his hatred. No matter what his
cousin might do to try and goad him.

    
And he
must also mind his words where the High Priest was concerned. He wondered what
the man would do were he to tell him the God Above was not a benevolent and
beneficent entity as those of his faith believed, but a madman bent on
destroying not only this world, but all worlds. The idea of saying such a thing
to the High Priest caused a bubble of hysterical laughter to rise up in
Charles' throat.

    
“Steady,”
Victor said. “Calm yourself.”

    
Charles
swallowed back the feeling of hysteria. “How am I to face Richard after all the
threats he’s made against my sister? I’m not a man of short temper, but I’d
like nothing better than to run my fist down his throat.”

    
“Think on
me,” Victor said. “Whatever threats the prince has made against Anastasia have remained
only that, threats. I lost a good and dear friend in the king and now I must
face his murderers knowing they will never be properly punished. If I can face
Richard and
Daniella
with a clear mind, then so can
you.”

    
The
carriage came to a stop and Edward hurried to open the door for them. With the
boy in tow, Charles and Victor made their way up the steps to the castle door.
The guards on watch eyed them uncertainly. They were neither invited nor
expected and though the guards surely recognized Duke Victor’s crest on the
side of the carriage, if not the White Knight himself, they still had their
orders.

    
One of
the guards stepped forward to meet them. “What business have you at the castle
this day, good sirs?” The slight tremor in his voice and his aversion to
looking directly at them suggested to Charles he knew exactly to whom he was
speaking.

    
“We’ve
come seeking audience with her Royal Majesty, the Queen,” Victor said. “We’re
not expected, but it is urgent and I have every reason to believe her Majesty
will welcome us. Kindly inform her Majesty that Victor
Lassard
,
Duke of Monroe, and Lord Charles
DeHaviland
of the
Duchy of
Columine
await her.”

    
“Yes, my
Lord.” The guard executed a swift bow before spinning on his heels and hastening
into the castle.

    
Charles
shifted on his feet. He’d only actually met Queen Jana once, ten years ago when
she married his uncle. He and Anastasia had not visited the castle since, due
to a certain incident involving the two of them, Richard, a bloody nose, and a
mud puddle. An incident Charles deeply regretted as it had been the cause of no
end of trouble through the intervening years.

    
When the
castle doors were opened once more, Charles fully expected to see Richard
waiting there. He wasn’t certain what he meant to do if this was the case,
though he knew if his cousin were to intercept them before they could reach
Jana it would severely lessen their chances of presenting their case to the
High Priest.

    
But it
wasn’t Richard. It was Jana, dressed all in black. Dark smudges marred her
eyes, but she offered them a wan smile nonetheless. “Victor.” She held her hand
out to him. “I haven’t the words to say how happy I am to see you.”

    
Victor
took her hand in his and brushed his lips lightly across the back. “I regret
not visiting these past few months. But it was so hard to watch my dearest
friend dwindling away. I did you both a great dishonor by indulging in such
selfishness.”

    
“Nonsense.” She touched her hand to his cheek. “I understand why you
stayed away. And so did Robert, I’m certain. You’re here now and it’s all that
matters. Though considering your traveling companion,” she glanced at Charles,
“I think it safe to assume your arrival heralds some discord.”

    
“Best we
go inside before we speak of such things,” Victor said. “The wind has ears.”

    
“So do
stone walls,” she replied. “Still, I suppose you are correct. This is no place
for the discussion of important matters.”

    
They
spoke no more until they were seated before an unlit fireplace in the Queen’s
sitting room and all the servants, save for Edward who lingered near the door,
had been sent away. Jana folded her hands neatly in her lap and regarded
Charles. “So, you’ve come to challenge Richard’s right to the throne.”
 

    
It wasn’t
a question, but Charles felt compelled to treat it as one. “That’s right. I
understand if you don’t think I should --”

    
Jana held
up a hand to stop his words. “I’m glad you decided to do this. I prayed for it.
You have more right to the crown than does Richard.”

    
“You say
this because Robert thought Richard wasn’t his son?”