The Return of Nightfall (46 page)

The captain stiffened, staring at his companion with an intensity that threatened to flay him to his very core.

“I’m hell-bound and determined to prove my innocence, even if it means consorting with the very people who would gleefully tear me apart just for knowing my name.” Nightfall gave the captain a study as severe as the one he was receiving. “If I sell you out, you can do the same to me. If you sell me out . . .” He met the captain’s eyes directly, unleashing all of the lethal might of his demon namesake. “. . . you had best hope they kill me.” Without waiting to see the effect his words had on the captain, he strode back toward Kelryn and Volkmier. To his relief, the captain did not follow.

“I told him,” Kelryn announced the moment Nightfall arrived. No doubt, she referred to his identity.

Nightfall turned his attention to Volkmier.

If Nightfall was about to die, Volkmier did not show it. The squat, densely muscled redhead studied him mildly from beneath a crinkled brow. “Is it true?”

Nightfall had not intended to reveal himself, but he trusted Kelryn enough to believe she had a reason for doing so. “Kelryn would not lie.”

“Why did you come back?” Though pitched low to keep the prisoners from hearing, Volkmier’s question still carried clear accusation. Nightfall thought he understood. His presence and Kelryn’s confession placed the guard in a position as awkward as the captain’s had been. Not wanting to admit that most of the reason for his premature return had to do with concern about how Volkmier might handle confronting the traitor, he shifted the focus of his interest. “I have information, and I hoped you did, too.” He hurried on, to ascertain that he received before he had to give. “I’ve heard you’re close to civil war.”

Volkmier nodded grimly. “Many a man would like to place his own ass permanently upon the king’s throne.”

“How many?”

“There are at least seven serious possibilities. Each one has offered me a generous sum to take his side.” He snorted. “I’ve received several other proposals, all anonymous; but I don’t know whether these represent secret contenders or are just more of the same, testing or hoping.” Volkmier sighed. “I have become the most popular man in Alyndar.”

Nightfall pursed his lips, feeling the guard’s scrutiny upon him, as well as the captain’s, though the latter was at a distance. Both sought signs of Sudian in the larger, homelier merchant. “Who are you supporting?”

Volkmier turned his gaze directly upon Nightfall’s eyes with a slow movement indicative of withering disdain. “I’m in the employ of King Edward Nargol until someone proves to me he’s dead. Otherwise, I serve whoever is placed and accepted upon the throne. My loyalty is to Alyndar herself.” His head drooped, his expression turned hopeful, and his voice lost its brave resonance. “Please tell me King Edward will return.”

“I’m doing my best.” Nightfall tried for a tone as sincere and pure as Volkmier’s, with little success. It came out more defensive. “But I’ve had to overcome a lot of obstacles, and I’m still facing mountains. If only Nightfall—”

“No!” Kelryn hissed.

Both men swung toward her.

“Nightfall is dead.”

Ice prickled through Nightfall. “Well, yes. I’m not talking about committing any crimes,” he hastily assured both of them, an assertion he would not, however, hesitate to break if he deemed it necessary. “I just need to tap some sources—”

“No!”

Volkmier placed his hands flat in an urgent plea for Kelryn to lower her voice. He took Nightfall’s side. “If it brings back the real king, how can it be bad to—”

Kelryn had an answer before he could finish. “Because, Commander, once Nightfall returns, Sudian dies. And he
promised
he would bring Sudian safely home, as well as the king.”

Nightfall tipped his head, unable to follow Kelryn’s reasoning. Suddenly, the wording he had not understood while disguised as a chambermaid in Kelryn’s room seemed infinitely significant.
Bring back Ned,
she had said.
And also . . . Sudian.
“Sudian won’t die just because—”

Kelryn’s eyes blurred to emerald pools. “Yes,” she said in a calm voice that clashed with her tears. “I know you. Better than you know you.” She shook her head, in clear pain. “First of all, you swore to Ned that Nightfall would never return.”

Nightfall had not forgotten. It was his promise to the king that had held him back thus far, not the vague one he had made to Kelryn that he had not really understood.

Volkmier jerked backward. “Edward
knew
?”

Nightfall bobbed his head, hating the memories that accompanied the admission. “Gilleran told him. It was a trick to demoralize him so he wouldn’t fight, and the chancellor could slaughter him as easily as he had Edward’s father and brother.”

Volkmier considered in silence a moment before speaking. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Edward didn’t fight,” Nightfall admitted, a dark smile forming on his lips. “But I did.”

“You saved the king’s life.”

Nightfall could not deny what had become common knowledge.

“And Alyndar has rewarded you with a sentence of death and a manhunt the like of which has not been seen since . . .” Even Volkmier had to grin. “. . . since we went after Nightfall.”

“Fairly defines irony, doesn’t it?”

Kelryn cleared her throat loudly. “My point is, you made a promise.”

Volkmier tried to reason with her. “Don’t you think the king would understand the need to make sacrifices to save his life and the kingdom?”

To Nightfall’s relief, Kelryn turned her stony gaze, still teary, on Volkmier. “Edward would sacrifice his life rather than break his word. You both know he would never agree to let someone become a criminal to rescue him. Never.”

Though foolish, it was true; and neither man could deny it.

“Nightfall is no mere act to this man.” Kelryn waved a hand in Nightfall’s general direction, as if he had become nothing more than a spectator to the discussion. “I’ve given my love, Dyfrin dedicated a lifetime, Edward poured his heart and soul into the creation of Sudian. If he goes back . . .” She slumped, looking miserable, but her stare remained locked with Volkmier’s. “. . . he will never return.” She took a step toward the prison guard. “And you will know you revived the assassin who haunted every kingdom.”

Volkmier wheeled away from Kelryn, looking peeved.

Nightfall knew he had to speak for himself. “Give me some credit for self-control, Kelryn. I can handle this.”

“No.”

Nightfall froze. He had expected her to listen or to argue, not to disagree. “No?”

“No.” Kelryn explained herself, whirling on him. Once again, Nightfall met the deep green eyes he loved, and they granted him no quarter. “You need to give me some credit. For intuition and perception. There are things women understand better than men. First among them: men.” She raised her chin, revealing the features that defined striking beauty for Nightfall, no matter how imperfect. “Nightfall cannot live again. You have to swear it, my love.”

Now, it was Nightfall’s turn to surprise her. “No.” He had never denied her anything before. “I can’t, Kelryn. I’m already crippled by circumstance and hobbled by vows.” His past beckoned: a time when he relied on no one but himself, knew nothing of mercy, and savored an absolute freedom he now sorely missed. “No matter how right, no matter how fair, no matter if I’m already bound by a similar vow to another, I cannot agree to anything.”

Kelryn said nothing.

Nightfall gathered Kelryn in his arms. She felt wooden against him, frail and desperately fragile. “You have to stay strong, Kelryn. You have to believe.”

“Believe in what?” she said bitterly. “The gods? Chance? Neither has ever favored such as us.”

“Then,” said Nightfall into her cheek, “believe in my promise to Ned. It seems the same as yours. Believe . . . in me.” He was not sure why he said it; he could not have followed his own advice. He had spent weeks tracking Edward, uncovering nothing but a vague rumor from a child that the king might have been initially taken to Hartrin.
What difference does it make if I promise Kelryn not to do something I’ve already committed myself against?
Still, Nightfall could not bring himself to say the words. He dared not chance that Kelryn had hidden some deep meaning behind something that seemed quite simple, as she had once before. He could not afford to add a blindfold to his shackles. “Kelryn, I love you.”

Kelryn sighed. “Then why,” she whispered, “are you cuddling with another woman?”

The words seemed so outlandish Nightfall could not, at once, put sense to them. He disentangled himself from Kelryn, following her gaze to the captain, who paced the corridor, his impatience clear. Nightfall laughed. “You have nothing to fear from Zenia.”

“She seems to feel otherwise.”

Nightfall spoke directly into Kelryn’s ear, so even Volkmier could not hear him. “She is a he.”

Kelryn’s eyes grew wide, and a lost tear dripped free. “Really?”

“Really,” Volkmier said, and they both whirled to face him. There was no way he could have heard what Nightfall had said. The commander tipped his head. “That’s a man, or I’m a woman.”

“How . . . ?” Kelryn started.

“Movement,” Volkmier said. He gave Nightfall a significant look. “Gives everyone away.”

Nightfall shivered. “Is that why Kelryn told you who I was? Because you already knew?”

Volkmier hesitated, as if he might lie, then shook his head. “I knew something was going on. You maneuvered deftly enough, but I have information the rest of the court doesn’t share. You’re the only one who would want her and me together, somewhere where we can’t be overheard. Add the man in woman’s clothing, and it becomes clear that things need . . . some clarification.” He glanced at the captain. “I bought a scarf from Balshaz before. Clever of you to dress as a real person, though it could fail dangerously if the two of you showed up in the same place or you met someone with whom he shares a secret or a passion. I just assumed you had hired Balshaz as a messenger. You’ve got his mannerisms down. Fooled me, and that’s not easy.”

Nightfall thought it better not to explain.

“Of course, if you’d had to escape the guards for some reason, I’d have known you in an instant.”

Nightfall did not doubt it. “It’s no wonder you’re so popular, Commander. Loyalty, competence, and intelligence are difficult to find in one man.”

Volkmier snorted. “Anyone who knew I was aiding you might find me lacking in two of those areas. Especially intelligence. But I’m afraid my personal strengths have little to do with why all of the contenders for the throne want me.”

Nightfall waited for the true explanation.

Volkmier did not immediately give it, apparently believing the answer obvious. Then, catching the quizzical looks on his companions’ faces, he elucidated. “In a war against another country, a man could do no better than the king’s army and navy. But when the war is internal, one wants men used to battling wily prisoners in dark corners hampered by jagged corridors and staircases and mindful of one’s own comrades.” He shrugged. “That’s why the commander of the prison guards also has authority over the elite circle: the king’s own bodyguards and the sentries of the royal court.”

Nightfall had learned a detail of life in the castle he would never have guessed. “Thank you.” He wanted to make it clear his appreciation extended far beyond this newest piece of information. “For not killing me. For your loyalty to Edward. For all your assistance.”

Volkmier reached for Nightfall’s arm.

Though seized with the instinctive urge to dodge, Nightfall forced himself to remain still.

The brawny hand closed around him, firm and solid. “Just bring Alyndar’s king back alive.”

“I’m trying.”

Volkmier leaned closer. “I will do anything in my power to see that any crime you commit to save him gets pardoned.” He let go. “Beyond that, you’re on your own.”

Nightfall understood the veiled threat behind that promise. In his own way, Volkmier had just sanctioned him to use any means necessary to rescue Edward, no matter how illegal, dirty, or underhanded. However, Volkmier had also taken heed of Kelryn’s warning that, once loosed, Nightfall would fall inevitably back into the methods of his past, inexorably under the power of the demon.

In the leaden moments that followed Volkmier’s pronouncement, Nightfall brought the conversation abruptly to the point that concerned him most, the one that had prompted his return to Alyndar when a run to Hartrin had seemed wiser. He kept the initial query casual. “Have you had any success finding the traitor?”

Volkmier’s expression went even more somber, if possible. “We know the adviser, Khanwar, commandeered a courier dove shortly after the meeting, which he sent on a ‘diplomatic mission’ to Hartrin.”

Hartrin.
Nightfall’s hopes soared. It seemed to confirm Danyal’s investigation, and he could think of no one he would rather see executed for treason than the sneering adviser who had shoved Kelryn.

“And he’s already formed a friendship with Admiral Nikolei which seems mostly based on a mutual hatred of . . . you.” Volkmier heaved a sigh. “I’m guessing Khanwar is manipulating Nikolei after the fact. I can’t believe the admiral would knowingly participate in any plan resulting in the deaths of some of Alyndar’s best fighting men.”

Nightfall made a thoughtful noise but offered no judgment on the matter. He could only go on gut feeling; and, right now, he knew nothing but contempt for every member of the High Council, including the admiral. “I fully trust you to handle the situation. All I ask is that you do the same for me.”

Volkmier rolled his eyes upward as he contemplated Nightfall’s words. Kelryn glanced between them.

Rescuing his words from misinterpretation, Nightfall explained them, “I’m just asking that you not reveal my destination, or the traitor, until I bring Ned home safely. Otherwise, I’m afraid we might spark a war, and Ned’s captors might dispose of him to make it look as if they never had him.”