Trial of Fire (63 page)

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Authors: Kate Jacoby

BOOK: Trial of Fire
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With a sigh, she lay back on the blanket and looked up at the stars showing faintly through the film of cloud. ‘The weather has been so good. After the last winter, I was expecting constant rain.’

‘It’s taken me a while to get used to the cold again. The longer I’m here, the more I miss the warmth of Alusia.’ Patric sat cross-legged on the ground, plaiting pieces of rope by touch alone. On the other side of him sat Joshi, cleaning his sword by the light of fires and what little moon they had left.

‘Do you think you’ll go back, after this is all over?’ she asked her old friend.

‘That largely depends on whether I live through it, I suppose.’

Joshi looked up at that, but then gave Jenn a half-smile and returned to his work.

‘Does Joshi want to go home?’

‘For all that the Generet live in one city, they are still nomadic by nature. Joshi knows where he came from, and certainly misses his family and friends, but he feels no desperate need to return just yet.’

‘And what about you? Where is home for you now?’

Patric, a puzzled frown on his face, thought a moment before answering, ‘I don’t really know. I’m sure I wouldn’t want to go back to the Enclave, even if I could. But apart from that, I honestly haven’t thought about it.’

Jenn watched the two of them a moment, and the obvious bond between them, knowing they were mindspeaking. Patric habitually relayed the contents of every conversation had in his presence. It appeared the young Generet had no gift with learning the language. Or perhaps it was just a problem with spoken language.

‘How does Robert plan to fight this army coming towards us? Our numbers are pitiful compared with theirs.’

Jenn looked around, but most of the men were involved in evening chores of one kind or another. Their numbers had increased noticeably during the day. Now there were campfires scattered across a third of the plateau, leaving the pleasant scent of peat burning in the air. Keeping her voice low, she replied, ‘Knowing Robert, he has a dozen tactical tricks he’ll play to make the most of our small numbers, and of course, the terrain is in our favour. He’ll separate Kenrick and Nash. If he doesn’t, Nash will just kill Andrew.’

‘But how does he plan to separate them?’

‘I don’t know. He’s not actually talking to me at the moment.’

‘Because you lied to him about Andrew?’

Jenn’s eyes widened. ‘Pardon?’

‘Forgive me,’ Patric said, ‘but it was impossible to mistake the tension in the air between you – especially after everything seemed so good; a little judicious prodding of Finnlay got my answer. I wasn’t trying to pry, but you know I’m interested in all things to do with the Prophecy. Finnlay told me about your other research suggesting Andrew was also involved in the Prophecy. I confess, I found similar suggestions myself.’

‘Suggestions of what?’

‘Oh, so much! For example, that ancient Prophecy that said something was supposed to happen about three hundred years ago? Well, I think it would have if the Cabal and Empire hadn’t battled. I suspect what’s happening now was supposed to happen then. See, the odd thing about Prophecy is that it seems to recreate itself, over and over. Bits of it survive
in the oddest places, out of context, being applied to different things. The moment you start to travel, to see the world through the eyes of others, it’s hard to hold onto your old ideas and prejudices, beliefs that you would have sworn were absolute.’

‘For example?’

‘That to be blind is to be crippled.’

‘But Joshi is your eyes.’

‘Exactly.’

Jenn laughed a little, and looked away, her gaze sweeping over the men, at their makeshift beds, their practical movements. Some faint echo of laughter floated towards her and she knew that came from the Maclean camp.

‘I wonder, have you asked yourself why the Key chose that moment to drop its protection?’

With a frown, Jenn turned back to Patric, who stopped his plaiting and faced her, his eyes wide open but seeing nothing. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘It was joining itself to the Calyx. Robert tried to split them apart—’

‘Yes, but he didn’t break the protection, did he?’

‘No.’

‘And the Calyx couldn’t – so it had to be the Key. Why? Why, after more than five hundred years of protecting us all, would it suddenly choose that moment to make us completely vulnerable, exposing us to not only the rest of the country, but especially to Nash?’

A prickle of fear ran down her back and she sat up again. To keep her hands busy, she reached back and pulled her braid over her shoulder, undoing the tie to release her hair. ‘Why do you think it did?’

‘Robert’s always fought the Key, because it gave him the Prophecy, and the ending of the Prophecy, along with the Word of Destruction. It basically told him he’d use the Word to destroy everything he loved. He considered it a curse and has mistrusted the Key ever since.’

‘True.’

‘The Key knows this.’

Jenn’s hands froze. ‘You’re saying the Key did it deliberately? To force Robert into—’

‘To force Robert into moving on with the Prophecy. To force us out into the open, to force
you
out into the open. Yes. I think that’s exactly what happened.’ Patric resumed his own plaiting. ‘We need to consider why the Key was made, what purpose it had at the time of its creation. Now, after so long, it has become an object of great power, but back then, I think it was made to hold the Prophecy, so that those who were leaving the Cabal would be able to take it with them.’

‘But—’

‘As far as I can tell, every single Cabal palace had a wall with the same Prophecy carved onto it. We’re talking about something wholly central to all sorcerers, our very reason for existence. There is no way they could leave something that important behind without carrying a permanent copy of it with them. I think that’s the real reason why the Malachi wanted the Key back, because without it, they couldn’t claim to be the new Cabal, and they would lose the major part of their heritage.’

‘By the gods,’ Jenn breathed, stunned to her core. All that had seemed incomprehensible made sense now. ‘I never thought—’

Patric laughed a little. ‘None of us did. We were all too close to it, too desperate to find the answers that were right in front of us.’

‘So how did
you
see the answers?’

For a moment, Patric chewed his bottom lip and Jenn realised Joshi was watching him very closely. ‘There’s one other way of looking at the Prophecy: Amar Thraxis was father of the Generet, possibly of us all. What if, instead of the Prophecy being some vague instruction of what we should do if certain things happened, it was instead, the result of some kind of plan? What if he set all this in motion deliberately and left the Prophecy to warn us of what was happening – because he made sure it would?’

Jenn rose to her knees, her attention fixed on the two men in the distance, still battling, still circling, still trying to win. ‘When Robert and I tried to ask the Calyx for the Prophecy, the Key stopped my breathing, making Robert withdraw. He said it was deliberate, that it was just trying to prove to him that he had no choice in what happened, that it was entirely in control.’

‘You and Robert,’ Patric continued in a whisper, ‘were Bonded. Sixteen years ago, when Andrew was conceived, the Prophecy took the first step and brought you together. But it wasn’t the first step. If Thraxis did indeed plan it, Andrew’s conception was the first of the final steps. We’re about to take the rest.’

Robert was right – he had been right all along. None of them had any choice at all: they had all been born to do this, created to reach one final goal – whatever that was.

But she knew what that was: the same thing Robert had dreaded and feared and fought against all his life, because he loved her, because Thraxis had Bonded them together. And Bonding existed to make sure certain people married, made sure they would have children who would Bond with others. All along the line until she was born, and Robert. And between them, they had their son.

She closed her eyes, fighting back the swell of horrified emotion that threatened to choke her, fighting for control.

You are the Key
.

That’s what it had said, long ago, when she’d joined with it, when Robert had tried to stop it, when he’d been caught by it as well. Together in the nothingness inside it, the Key had worked on them, changed them, altered their bodies and healed all their old scars, preventing them from ageing so they would survive long enough to make the Prophecy happen. And at the end, it had told her that.
You are the Key
.

She felt Patric’s hand on hers and she opened her eyes, squeezing back to reassure him, though reassurance meant nothing now.

‘You can’t tell him,’ she whispered, rapidly pulling her hair together again, winding it around until it sat at the back of her head, out of the wind. ‘Don’t tell anybody.’

For a moment, she thought Patric would refuse, but then he asked, ‘You’ll take us with you?’

She stared at him, then at Joshi briskly putting his sword and cleaning things away. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I think Joshi needs to be there.’

Jenn met the young man’s gaze a moment, then got to her feet. ‘I’ll be back. We’ll wait until everybody’s gone to bed.’ She drew in a deep breath, then headed off into the dark, towards the two men who were the centre of her world.

36

Robert had chosen a spot far enough away not to be disturbed, but close enough for all their men to see Andrew at work, so they could know and feel confident in him. Still, it was a long walk to Jenn, a walk of seventeen years. The closer she got, the more she could hear above the clashing of swords: the questions, the instructions, the complaints, the responses.

Would they have been like this if she’d not separated them all those years ago? Had she hampered Andrew’s chances of survival by giving him so little time with the one man who could teach him how to live?

It was too late now for those questions – at least for her. Now she only had time for answers.

She came to a halt on the periphery of their space, watching as they completed a set, as they launched into another. She could tell that although they were both tired, they were also both awake and alert, as though their purpose alone was supplying them with strength. Would that be enough to ensure they both lived?

This last bout came to an end, leaving Andrew breathing hard, but Robert without a sweat. Andrew glanced at her, as though he were ready to smile, but it faded at the last minute. She couldn’t bear to think what Robert had said to him about her.

‘What is it?’ Robert asked, his tone civil enough. She wished it wasn’t just for Andrew’s benefit.

‘I need to talk to you. Both of you.’

‘Why?’

She didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ve decided to go.’

‘What?’ Andrew put away his sword and moved towards her. Without that light, it was hard to see his face, but she could hear the confusion in his voice. ‘Why? What’s wrong? Is it because … because Father—’

‘No, it’s nothing to do with your father. Or rather, it has everything to do with him.’ This boy of hers could tell truth from a lie, so she had to be very careful. ‘He made a vow, many years ago, that he would protect me. If I stay, then his fight with Nash could be compromised. None of us wants him to be distracted. I don’t want to leave, but really,’ she paused, hearing something inevitable echo in her voice, ‘I don’t have much choice.’

Andrew remained immobile for a moment, then he came towards her and wrapped his arms around her. As she held him in return, her eyes began to sting again; she almost broke then. She felt Robert’s eyes on her and looked up, unable to read him at all.

Then she kissed her son’s forehead, touching the sides of his face with her hands. ‘I’m so very proud of you,’ she whispered. ‘You will be the greatest King this land has ever seen. You are already a man others will look up to.’ She kissed him once more and let him go.

She could see him biting his lip, but there were no tears from her boy. There never had been. Not once in his entire life had he ever cried.

‘Go and get some supper,’ Robert murmured.

Andrew stayed still for a moment, then left them alone together.

Jenn took a breath but didn’t move.

‘He would rather you stayed.’

‘But you want me gone.’

He was silent at that for a moment, then replied, ‘I no longer know what I want. No, that’s not true.’ He came and stood close, but she didn’t look up. She couldn’t. ‘I want to hear you tell me you love me.’

‘Oh, Robert,’ she sighed, ‘I’ve told you that every day for the last seventeen years – but the Prophecy keeps drowning me out.’

‘I want to hear the words.’

‘But you won’t believe anything I say any more, will you?’

She heard him hiss in a breath then and looked up to find him facing the camp.

‘I suppose I deserved that.’ He ran a hand through his tousled hair. ‘Are you going alone?’

‘Patric and Joshi will keep me company. We’ll go once everyone’s gone to bed. I don’t want to cause any kind of fuss.’

He looked down at her, his face softening a little. She wanted to say it then, she desperately wanted him to know it for sure, so that no matter what happened, he would carry that with him – but she didn’t dare. That softening in his gaze warned her: if she did, he would bend, she would break – and she would never be able to leave.

She had no choice at all – which was how she was sure she was doing the right thing.

But he had no such thoughts, and it appeared he didn’t need to hear the words after all. He bent his head and kissed her, softly, briefly. Then he straightened up, took her hand and led her back to the camp, and through all the tenderness, she knew he had not forgiven her.

Joshi had saddled horses for them and packed up their sleeping blankets, gathering a little food for the journey. Since everyone was used to him
moving around on his own, nobody questioned his actions, but by the time Jenn reached him, most of the men had gone to their beds anyway. Only Deverin remained by the fire, trying to read a book by the light of the flames. He looked up when Jenn and Robert approached, saw their joined hands and gave them a little smile. She gave him one in return, leaning down to kiss his cheek as she passed.

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