Trial of Fire (35 page)

And he knew Andrew could as well.

‘You wanted to see me, Father?’ John approached quietly, dressed in browns enough to make him blend into the background. The journey here had required subterfuge, with their large group broken into smaller ones, and even their camp had been spread out in pockets through the forest so they could be as invisible as possible.

It felt so very,
very
good to be back in Lusara.

‘Tell me, Father,’ Aiden began, studying the priest carefully. This man had, until a few weeks ago, been the boy’s chaplain and teacher. His insight would be invaluable. ‘How do you think Andrew is coping with all this?’

‘I can’t say exactly.’ John shrugged apologetically. ‘I can’t get close enough to talk to him. He says what he thinks I want him to say, and little else. I don’t think he’s …’

‘What?’

‘Come to any decision yet.’

‘I see.’ Aiden had the same impression. ‘Do you think he will make a good King?’ Aiden could see loyalties warring within the priest, and was pleased to note it.

‘I think … yes. One day, he will become a great King.’

‘One day?’

Once more, John shrugged. ‘The idea is still new to him. I think he’s confused and a little lost. And …’

Aiden could see there was sorrow in the priest’s eyes and pressed him for more. ‘And what?’

‘His foster parents were murdered by the Malachi just a few weeks ago. I don’t think he’s begun to mourn yet.’

‘His foster parents? That would be Jennifer’s sister and her husband? By the mass, I had no idea!’ Aiden leaned back against the tree, annoyed that this was the first he’d heard of the tragedy. No wonder the boy was so
confused. So much had happened to him in such a little time; he’d had no chance to adjust.

‘Thank you, Father.’

‘Do you think you can help him?’

‘I don’t know. But I can at least try.’

As the priest turned back for the camp, Aiden added, ‘Only if he’ll let me, though.’ And if he was anything like his father, Andrew would be very hard to help indeed.

*

He could hear voices and after a moment, he could even understand the words.

‘I just don’t think it would be wise to linger here much longer.’

‘I can’t move him until he wakes up.’

‘And how long will that take? His wounds seem to be healing. Felenor is going to know the fire was a rescue, and it won’t take him too long to work out who was responsible. If he finds us—’

‘How did he find us in the first place? How did he know where Sairead was? You said only your most trusted people knew aplbout this. How did Felenor know to wait for Sairead there? You can’t tell me it was an accident.’

‘Of course it wasn’t an accident, and at the first opportunity, I will demand an explanation from him – but that doesn’t change the fact that you can’t sit there with him for ever. We need to move from this place. Soon.’

‘We’ll move when he wakes up, and not before.’

‘By the Blood!’

Footsteps then, and a door slamming, wooden walls shaking a little, then quiet, with a background of rushing water, some forest birds and, closer by, a crackling fire.

‘My lord?’

That voice was closer now, closer than it had been for a long time. It tempted him, asking for things, making him wake.

‘My lord, you need to open your eyes. It’s safe here, I promise you.’

A promise too easily made.

He opened his eyes. The roof above him was dark, shadowed, with old beams gnarled and knotted, spider webs crisscrossing the corners. The last of the day’s light filtered through some window somewhere, augmented by a lamp hung close by.

‘My lord?’ There was a smile there now, one he could not afford. ‘How do you feel?’

Robert moved his head, his muscles waking up painfully. He held his
breath, then remembered not to. With a groan, he got an elbow under himself and half-sat up, Micah’s hands immediately reaching to help him.

‘Don’t try too much too soon. You’ve been out three days. Just take it slowly.’

Robert kept moving, ignoring the throbbing in his head and the warning in his belly, until he was sitting on the side of the cot bed, stars in his eyes, wheezing. That would do for the moment. He could stand in a minute, once he’d caught his breath.

‘How do you feel?’

Yes, it wasn’t too bad. He could live with this. It would get better and in a little while, he’d be fit enough to travel. Then he had work to do.

‘My lord?’ The silence filled the empty spaces, making them brighter. ‘How do you feel?’

‘How do I feel?’ His voice came out as a rasp, but not without strength. It was enough to make him smile. ‘How do I feel? Well, Micah, I’m not sure how I feel. What do you think?’

‘My lord?’

‘How do you think I feel?’

‘Well … you look a lot better.’

‘So, I should feel better.’ Robert placed his hands on the cot either side of himself and used the leverage to get to his feet. This time the dizziness brought black patches to his sight, but after a moment, they vanished, leaving him standing. ‘Where are they?’

‘Who?’

‘Your Malachi friends.’

Micah scrambled to stand in front of him, holding up his hands. For the first time, Robert turned to look at him, finding some considerable fear in those familiar blue eyes. Micah had aged a little over the years, his hair showing some grey here and there, his face developing more freckles, and losing some of its old sunniness in the process. This Micah had seen more, had been more than the old one. It wasn’t enough to give Robert pause.

‘Where are they?’

‘My lord, you need to listen before you do anything.’

‘What makes you think I’m going to do anything?’

‘They beat you up, and your body’s still healing. You need to rest and recover before you—’

Robert reached out with one hand and grabbed Micah’s throat, tightening his grip just enough to make his point felt. ‘Where are they?’

Micah froze, his eyes wide with real fear now. Still, he struggled to explain. ‘Please, just wait, I beg you. This is not what it looks like. Let me call Gilbert and he can talk to you. Please, just …’

Robert let him go. Micah stared at him a moment, then strode to the door, called out Gilbert’s name, then turned back. ‘Gilbert had nothing to do with your torture. Those were other Malachi, nothing to do with him.’

‘Why,’ Robert said clearly, looking around the room, ‘do you think I care one way or the other?’ There was nothing here he could use. On the other hand, there had to be horses somewhere around. This place looked like a disused mill – just another building emptied and ruined thanks to the monster he’d left on the throne.

He spied a water-bottle by the bed and retrieved it, pulling the stopper to drink long and deep. Water had never tasted so sweet.

‘Ah, you’re awake!’

He could feel it, burning his skin as it always did, that unmistakable stench of Malachi blood close by. The Key had been right to banish them, right to drive them from this land. It was fitting that they were the tools of Nash. They worked so well together.

Robert turned slowly and took a look at the man facing him. This one was his own height, with rust-red hair streaked with strands of silver. The hair was kept long and plaited down the man’s back, in a fashion Robert hadn’t seen on this continent. The face, however, was the most striking thing: an ugliness Robert could honestly appreciate, skin marked with some childhood disease, black eyebrows, a huge nose almost comical, and teeth not knowing in which direction to grow. The combination was instantly unforgettable.

‘My lord,’ Micah began, standing between them as though he still trusted that Robert wouldn’t hurt him, ‘this is Gilbert Dusan. He’s the grandson of Aamin, the Chabanar – he’s like the Jaibir, the leader of the Malachi. Gilbert wanted to talk to you, that’s all. Please, hear him out.’

Robert started laughing. ‘I was right, you didn’t know what you were doing.’ Robert pushed past them both and walked out the open door. The evening was drawing down, bringing cool air and blessed darkness. He looked around for the expected stable and found it on his right, not far from the stream.

The other two ran after him, Micah still doing his best. ‘The group who took you, they work for Kenrick. That’s why Gilbert is here. This isn’t what you think it is. Gilbert helped rescue you. He saved your life! You need to listen.’

Robert was listening. Very carefully. He listened as he found a suitable horse, and a saddle. He had no sword, but he didn’t need one for the moment. He took the saddle and swung it up onto the horse, his hand immediately tying up straps and buckles. The pain rattling through his body only made him move faster.

‘Forget it, Micah.’ Gilbert spoke for himself at last. ‘He doesn’t want to listen.’

‘Listen to what?’ Robert said, ducking under the horse’s neck to make more adjustments. ‘I’ve heard nothing of interest so far. Was there any other reason you brought me out here and nearly got me killed? No? Fine. I’ll be leaving in that case.’

Both men stood aside as he led the horse from the stable. He gathered the reins together and turned to face Micah, who was standing there shaking his head sadly, as though he were witnessing something he’d never thought possible. Robert almost laughed at the idea. Nothing was impossible. He had learned that if nothing else.

‘Where’s your
wife?’

Instantly, Micah’s expression changed. His face hardened and he stuck out his jaw.

Not really expecting an answer, Robert continued, ‘I’m going to let her live for one reason and one reason only. She carries a Maclean child and I owe your father one. But I warn you, if she comes near me again, I will kill her without a thought.’

Done now, he swung up into the saddle and kicked the horse hard. He turned straight into the track, and, with a look up at the stars, chose his direction. Not once did he look back.

‘How long do we wait? In another week, our letters will have reached their destinations and things will start to happen. How are we to move if we’re sitting here waiting for Robert to appear?’ Finnlay looked from Payne, to Deverin and on, from one man to the other. This was Robert’s council, the men he had entrusted with helping Andrew rule once he had taken the throne. Finnlay could not fault Robert’s choices, but they were all getting very edgy. They’d been encamped within the thick forest around Elita for two days now, and Finnlay had nothing to tell them. He couldn’t Seek, and John didn’t know Robert well enough to try.

If Robert didn’t appear soon, he’d have to mindspeak Jenn and see if she could find Robert, but that was an option he wanted to leave until last.

‘We can afford to give him one more day,’ Daniel said; ‘after that, we’ll lose the advantage of surprise.’

‘I agree,’ Payne said, then asked Finnlay, ‘Do you think he’ll be here?’

‘If he can, he will be.’

‘And if he can’t?’

He hated to admit it, but he had no choice. ‘If he can’t, there’s no point in waiting longer.’ They all had the grace to at least not mention the possibility that if Robert couldn’t come, then he was most likely dead – and if he was dead, they had no real hope of fighting Nash, or of winning.

With a deep breath, Finnlay looked across the camp to where Andrew was sitting on his own, reading from a book the Bishop had given him.

‘He’s not what I expected,’ Payne said quietly, careful that nobody outside this group should hear him. ‘What does McCauly say?’ They were all waiting on Finnlay’s answer.

The uncle in him rose to Andrew’s defence, even though he knew he shouldn’t. ‘He can see some difficulties, but he doesn’t believe they are insurmountable. Andrew is young and he—’

‘Will be ruling this country before the end of summer,’ Payne finished for him, obviously none too happy with the idea. ‘I told Robert—’

‘For good or ill, my lord,’ Deverin imposed his firm voice on them all, ‘Andrew will be our King. All else is
our
responsibility.’

Finnlay smiled at the big man. ‘Exactly what I was thinking. Now, anyone interested in a cup of ale?’

*

Micah rode hard, probably harder than he’d ever ridden before, and still he couldn’t catch up with Robert. Every time he stopped, he crouched to the ground and found the tracks so he could be sure he was heading in the right direction, but he never drew any closer.

Robert had to know he was following. A sorcerer of Robert’s ability couldn’t possibly not know he was being tailed, but there was no sign of it, no suggestion that he’d stopped and looked, nor even done anything to lose Micah.

So Micah kept riding, managing to change his horse once at a prosperous farm. After that, he didn’t stop unless he had to.

Robert had had no more than an hour’s head-start on him. Micah had waited just long enough for Sairead to return, to give her a hurried explanation, to beg Gilbert to look after her, then he’d leapt on his own horse and ridden off at a gallop. He couldn’t leave it like this, couldn’t just make these mistakes and do nothing about them. He wasn’t that kind of man. He wouldn’t be the man Sairead loved if he did.

So he rode on and never thought of stopping.

*

Aiden waited until after supper, when things were being cleaned up and fires stoked against morning. Sure that nobody was paying him any attention, he made his way down the gentle slope towards the river where a narrow track followed the water to the ruin of a mill left there centuries ago.

As though he had no other plan, he wandered, his hands behind his back, breathing deeply of the sweet Lusaran air, listening to the call of night birds newly returned from the south. It was good to be back. With a little luck, and many prayers, perhaps he would never need to leave again.

He found the ruin without difficulty. Finnlay had told him about this place, and a little of its history. In the darkness, with fine threads of moonlight falling on its ruined walls, there was definitely a ghostly beauty about it.

Andrew was there, where he’d expected to find him, sitting just outside the ruin, on moss-covered rock, his back against a wall, one knee raised, his eyes lost in the forest opposite.