Trial of Fire (16 page)

Aiden had his answer, though he could not afford to pursue this any further. Payne had noticed John had information about Andrew and was not sharing it with the rest of the council – though by the look of it, he hadn’t said anything to the others.

After a moment, Payne did glance at him, a light of something indefinable in his eyes. ‘You know my older brother fought alongside Selar during the Troubles?’

Surprised at the change of subject – and the direction – Aiden could only nod.

‘The shame I felt at his betrayal of his country … there are no words to describe it. I still wear that shame to this day.’

‘Nobody thinks you—’

‘No, I understand that. But …’ Payne kept his voice low so the servants wouldn’t hear, ‘but I am equally ashamed that I rejoiced the day he died. I took the title of Earl, became head of our House, and have done everything within my power since to expiate his sin. I
need
to see Lusara freed, Bishop. I need to have a hand in achieving that.’

‘I understand.’

Payne paused then, turning once more to look out of the window. ‘I’m just not sure I like where this is taking us. I’m no longer certain of what we will have once we win this war.’

Aiden caught in his breath, surprised a second time. ‘You don’t support Andrew for the throne?’

The Earl’s response was a long time forming. Then he nodded, once, firmly. ‘Yes, I do. He’s better than any alternative. But that’s not all a King should be, don’t you agree, Bishop?’

Finally Payne turned and faced him squarely, allowing Aiden to read what he could in that open gaze. ‘I do agree, with all my heart. But I also have faith in Robert, and in his ability to choose the right person.’

‘Even if so much of his life has been dominated by a Prophecy he’s kept secret from us? How can we judge what is right, or his ability to know what is right?’

Aiden kept hold of that gaze, struggling to find an answer, but he ran out of time. The others returned then, John and Joshi supporting Patric between them. As they took their seats around the table, food was brought in, and Aiden set aside his concerns for the moment in favour of hearing Patric’s story.

*

‘I will tell you now, before I begin, that I cannot divulge all the secrets I
learned. Those must be for Robert alone. He will know what to do with the knowledge I gained.

‘The day I left Flan’har on that ship was the last moment of peace I knew for a long time. I had no idea what the world out there would be like. You may not know this, but I was born inside the Enclave and until I rode on a mission to Robert at Dunlorn, I had spent my entire life inside the caves, with no real desire to leave them. But working with Robert, trying to solve the mystery of our people and this Prophecy, drove me beyond all I knew and out into the Gulf, on a ship that rocked so bad I was sick every hour of the journey.

‘I won’t recount every day of my trip to you – that would take much longer than your patience would endure. But I did arrive in Alusia safely, and spent some time learning the cities, gaining work to pay for my food and lodgings, and doing all I could to find out if there had ever been a sorcerer Palace in Alusia. It took me a year before I found enough threads to warrant a trip inland. I found a guide, but I discovered nothing. I mounted three other expeditions, all to no avail. I’m afraid I got something of an odd reputation in the city. People believed I was chasing after ghosts.

‘After the second year, I gained more information, but I promise you, it was still all little more than guesswork, suspicion and rumour. I was persuaded to take another sea voyage north around the coast, stopping where all the pilgrims go. This was perhaps my biggest mistake. The ship was attacked by pirates. I was captured and worked as a galley slave for months, until, one night, a fearful storm drove the ship into rocks. The captain survived and sold those of us who still lived. We were sent to a salt mine where I met Joshi, and lost my sight.’

Patric paused in his story, and before he could so much as draw breath, Joshi leaned forward and refilled his cup, gently guiding Patric’s hand to it so he could drink. Aiden took the time to see how the others were responding; when he had time, he would sit with Patric and learn all the detail that was being missed today.

‘When I first met Joshi, I was confused. He appeared to be no more than what you see, and yet, my Senses were constantly on guard, the way they would be if he was Malachi, yet he so obviously wasn’t. He also could not speak my language, and I could not speak his. He hardly spoke at all. Even so, we struck up a friendship. He worked at the mine, but was not a slave and could come and go as he pleased. I am sorry to say that it wasn’t until my sight went completely that I was able to Sense him properly, and discovered that he was not only neither Salti or Malachi, but was in fact of the Generet, the very people I had been sent to find.’

Again, Patric paused, turning to face Aiden. ‘Robert and Jenn happened upon a travelling group of Generet at Bu, didn’t they?’

‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t find out about that encounter until years later. As it was, it took another year of wandering the hinterland before I learned to speak Joshi’s language enough to communicate my purpose. We … had some difficulty with some thugs in a tavern one night. I used my meagre combat abilities to gain our freedom. He decided that was something of sufficient interest to warrant taking me to his people. We had no horses, so the journey took months on foot. When we finally arrived I found he had taken me to a city in the heart of the desert, known the continent over as a capital for thieves. This, I was to discover some time later, was the place which unknowingly hid the Generet.’

‘What is the name of this place?’ Daniel asked quietly.

Patric didn’t answer immediately, but instead, inclined his head slightly towards Joshi. Aiden knew they were mindspeaking; a moment later, Patric gave a half-smile in apology. ‘Forgive me, but Joshi has asked me not to say where his home is to any other than Robert. Even then, he is doubtful. I’m sure you can appreciate, all sorcerers have for centuries lived in fear for their existence.’

‘Of course. Please continue.’

‘It took me a long time to meet with the Generet. They mistrusted me completely; despite Joshi’s recommendation, they refused to speak to me for more than a year. In that time I got a job as a teacher of children to one of the more powerful thieves. I was accepted as harmless because I was blind, you see.’ Patric smiled then; although he was still pale and his voice a little hoarse, he did not appear to be overly fatigued.

‘Finally, when I had all but given up hope, one of the elders agreed to see me. Over the next few months, I gradually got to know them. They began to trust me, and took me to where their homes are, which is not a part of the city itself. Some of the buildings are very old, and it was one of these which started me on the path of discovery. At first, the elders were reluctant to answer my questions, or to allow me to study. It took a long time for me to learn anything because what I found was carved on walls, in symbols and pictures, and I had to learn this new language as well.’

‘A new language?’ Aiden couldn’t help interrupting. ‘Not one you already knew?’

‘No, though there were similarities here and there in structure and grammar. Once I began to piece together what I learned, I took it to the elders and they told me what they knew. The more I learned, the more amazed I became.’

‘But you can’t tell us what you know?’ Payne asked carefully.

‘I must tell Robert before anyone else.’

‘But does it involve the Prophecy?’

‘Yes, it does. Not only that Prophecy, but also other prophecies we knew nothing about.’

‘Other prophecies?’ Aiden murmured, unable to help smiling. ‘That’s just what we need –
more
prophecies.’

‘Oh, but, Aiden, you have no idea how many prophecies there have been,’ Patric grinned, warming to this theme. ‘Some of them go back beyond the Dawn of Ages, to when this world was formed, and the gods Mineah and Serinleth fought Broleoch for the heavens.’

A shocked murmur rattled around the table at that, but Patric continued, ‘When I first heard about Robert’s Prophecy, I wondered why we had so little in our heritage. I did my best to investigate, but all I could find was a vague mention of a Prophecy that was supposed to happen about three hundred years ago. I thought it was odd that nothing else seemed to be written down. Well, I learned from the Generet why that is, and why there was a split between them and the rest of the Cabal. Jenn was right on that score – it was the Prophecy which caused the rift.’

Steeling himself, Aiden asked one of the questions that had plagued him since the day Patric had left on his odyssey. ‘What about the last Battle, the Cabal against the Empire? The incarnation of Mineah who helped the Empire defeat the Cabal? Did you learn anything of her?’

Patric turned his unseeing eyes on Aiden and said slowly, ‘Yes, I did.’

Aiden was about to ask more when the door opened and a servant entered, a letter pouch in his hand. He made directly for Aiden and delivered it without a word. Every man in that room knew what this letter might be. Every man dreaded it.

Feeling the silence around him, Aiden opened the pouch and broke the seal on the letter. It was from Godfrey, and the first few lines made his heart stop.

Your Grace,

I have the worst news to impart. I beg you, do what you can to inform Robert as urgently as you can. Nash has used his evil abilities to regenerate his body, using the blood of his own daughter. He is now whole and healed, and far stronger than ever before. It is even possible that this blood will guarantee his immortality!

Again, I beg you, please send to Robert and tell him all I have set out. If you do not, then he will face Nash unprepared, and both he and our whole cause will be lost!

‘Godfrey, tell me you didn’t!’

Osbert reached out and caught his arm, forcing him to stop in the middle of the castle corridor, drawing the gazes of others passing in the opposite direction. Almost instantly, the Proctor recognised the awkwardness of their situation and let Godfrey go. Even so, he glanced around, chose a door almost at random and briskly ushered Godfrey into a darkened – but mercifully empty – room.

‘Please, tell me you didn’t write anything—’

‘Of course I wrote something!’ Godfrey snapped back, then drew in a breath, and his self-control with it. He laced his hands together and lifted his chin. Just whom he was defying, however, he couldn’t quite pinpoint. ‘Did you honestly expect me to say nothing? The Baron DeMassey died to give me that information so I could act on it. They need to know what happened. I wish I could tell the whole country, but who would believe me? My silence now could seal our defeat – is that what you want?’

‘Damn it, Godfrey, don’t be an ass.’ Osbert took one long stride to the door and opened it a crack to see if anybody was close enough to listen. Satisfied, he shut it again and turned back, his face in half shadow and deeply unhappy. ‘And what happens if your letter is intercepted? Eh? By Kenrick, or even Nash? What will you do then? Or if your courier is followed. How can you risk everything …’

‘There is no risk. I’ve been using this system of couriers for years. They’re protected so that—’

‘But—’

‘What risk worries you most?’ Godfrey continued relentlessly. ‘You think your timely rescue of me from that wood will somehow make Nash forget that I was there, that I was the one who—’

‘Ssh!’ Osbert clapped a hand over Godfrey’s mouth. They remained frozen together like that for a moment, the Proctor’s eyes screwed shut, as though he could erase the truth the way night would chase away the day. Godfrey did not fight him; instead, Osbert grunted and let him go, turned and walked away to a thin pencil window which looked out onto the east side of Marsay. The Basilica stood to the right, the Guildehall to the left.
Poetically, only he and Osbert, Bishop and Proctor, seemed to stand between the two.

‘Nash still hasn’t returned to court,’ Osbert murmured, his hand finding the wall, his head dipped. ‘Kenrick came back last night, but I couldn’t find out where he’d been. At least, not for certain.’

Willing to take the peaceful route here, Godfrey asked, ‘But you do have your suspicions?’

Osbert replied, ‘My contacts say there are rumours that Malachi attacked Maitland Manor, that your friend, the young Duke, and his family were murdered.’

‘No!’ Godfrey gasped in a horrified breath, but Osbert was already turning to face him.

‘I have doubts about how true those rumours are: however, I think that’s where Kenrick went, to find out about his cousin.’ Osbert blinked a moment, then added reluctantly, ‘They have always appeared to the rest of the court to be very close. And now that Kenrick has returned, his presence rules out the possibility that he left to join Nash, wherever he is.’

‘Wherever he is.’

‘Yes.’ Osbert drew the word out, his gaze going over the nondescript furniture in the room before finally finding Godfrey. There was a silence between them for a moment.

‘We must stick together.’ Osbert raised his hands, perhaps indicating the entire country as their joint enemy. ‘If we don’t …’

Godfrey could only shake his head. ‘Nash knows it was me, Osbert. He will probably guess that you got me free. If he wants us dead, there’ll be an end to us. My writing letters will not change that.’

In the space of a few heartbeats, Osbert’s expression altered, his brow clearing, the lines of stress about his eyes and mouth smoothing out completely. Only his eyes showed all he felt: a bitterness and a fear held for far too many years. ‘I don’t know … what to do.’

And with those simple words, Godfrey felt the chasm open up beneath them, drowning them in an isolation that would most likely be the death of them. In this room, in Kenrick’s castle, in Marsay, they were alone and surrounded by people who could only afford to be enemies. There was no comfort he could offer, no hope reality had not already spoiled for him. But still he reached out and patted the Proctor’s arm, his voice emerging as softly. ‘Nor do I, my friend. Nor do I.’