Perhaps it was because of the strange crimson sigils covering all of their bodies. Markings Sable was helping to wash off the panicked and grateful captives with a wine-soaked rag, stoically ignoring the no doubt throbbing pain her own damaged arm was suffering, Mord having carefully wrapped it in linen before tying it to her side.
Jess gazed intently at Mord as Sable carefully washed off the crimson markings drawn upon his flesh as well.
“You owe me a hell of an explanation, Mord. About a great number of things. How do you know so much about me? What is this... council?” Jess gazed pointedly at the exhausted former captives, saying no more than that.
Mord solemnly nodded. “You're right, I do. And I will answer any question you have for me, on one condition.”
Jess blinked, surprised to hear him speak so civilly. “And what is that?”
Cold eyes met her own. “Tell no one about what happened at that keep, only that we fought Velheim troops in league with a slaver camp, which is true enough, and managed to save a handful of captives in the bargain.”
Jess grimaced. “I'm sorry, Mord. But that depends a hell of a lot on your explanation.”
“Ware your words, Jess. A lot happened that an inexperienced practitioner might think diabolism. Tell me, are you truly so anxious to see Sable and her babe hung as witches, after going to such trouble to save them?”
Jess lurched back, sickened, still tenderly holding little Julia in her arms.
Sable paled. “Please, Jess. I beg of you...”
Jess shook her head in furious negation. “Of course not! Look, I, gods damn it all, Mord, just what are you up to?”
"The only thing I'm up to is saving my sister! And if you truly gave a damn about anyone save yourself, you would put her safety above questions that could get her killed." Mord's cold gaze bore into her own. "Is that what you want, Jess? Do you despise me so much, even as we fought against horrors back to back, that you would see Sable screaming as she was led to the headsman's block? Poor little Julia thrown to the wolves? All because some damn diabolists sought to kill her, and we had to play their own game against them, as sly as any King's Agent?"
Sable gasped at those words and little Julia, sensing the change in mood, perhaps, suddenly burst into tears.
"Please," Sable begged. "Please, be careful of what you say or write down! Guilt by association could doom us, Jess. If the wrong people get ahold of reports easily misconstrued? We will all be put in peril."
Jess gave an unhappy nod, though her reservations were soothed by the look of naked gratitude Sable flashed her. She had sensed no deception, not a trace of malice in Mord's eyes. Any questions she had, she would ask him on the morrow. Yet if he thought she would write nothing at all down after all that had happened, he was a bigger fool than the diabolists they had cut down. For Sable's sake, she would leave certain key secrets out. But writing could wait, for the moment.
Julia cooed in Jess's arms and she had to fight back tears as her face lit up with a smile, feeling a ray of beautiful hope wash away the horrors she had endured that day.
“What about Malek, Mord? What about my brother-in-arms?”
A comforting paw upon her cheek. “I don't doubt that you would Delve into Hell itself to save him. I promise you this, my mistress, he lives. I don't know what shape he will be in when he comes to, but he lives. Were it otherwise, you would not even remember him.”
Mord's words echoed her familiar's. “Don't worry, Jess. That you remember him tells us all that he is alive.”
Jess's gaze turned hard. “If that's how it works, I should have already forgotten about all the horrors we had faced.”
Mord gave a slow shake of his head. “They had aligned themselves to the darkness. Those abominations we fought, blind sheep following a master no doubt filling their ears with lies, conflating the twisted alienation of their souls with the mistress's gift, until they became so infected with Shadow's taint that their human forms were but convenient masks for the pulsating strangeness that lay within.”
Mord shrugged. “It is the plight of anyone who dares Shadow without the mistress's markings. A rare few can master the taint, thriving upon it, spouting their delusions to sycophantic bards before sleeping for days on end. Yet for the naive fools so desperate for glory who dare to read the survivor's tales and chase those dreams of madness, what do they discover? Death, Jess. Of those few who can even spot the twisted paths, most of them find only death waiting for them. For either you are a rare parasite that can feed upon Shadow, or Shadow feeds upon you.”
Jess shivered, focusing only on comforting the infant in her arms, trying to forget the odd frisson of energy that had been coursing through her in that place, hoping she hadn't been infected by whatever horror had warped the men she had fought in Hyve's keep, even as Mord spoke on.
“Graslig and his pathetic lick-boots actually thought themselves in control, immune from the taint, believing that the sigils they wore would let them live inside the rupture indefinitely. Pathetic fools. Memory of them won't disappear from the world until the rift itself fades, which it eventually will, with no further sacrifices to feed the rupture.”
Jess shook her head. “The keep is a place of horrors. I understand that. But when we get back, I want answers.”
Mord's gaze was unreadable. “Very well, Jess, but hold to your promise.”
Jess grimaced, knowing such was easier said than done.
12
Ice-blue eyes froze her to the spot, demanding answers.
“Tell me again what happened, Calenbry. Most particularly about how you and Mord rescued these prisoners who uniformly swear that they remember... nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Jess frowned at that, having heard promises of silver for those who held their tongue, and a slit throat for those who did not. Very much like the old Mord she knew so very well. But with Sable and her daughter's lives on the line, she really didn't blame Mord, particularly as those captives would be dead already, had Jess and her companions not intervened. The first lesson any serf learned, after all, was deference to their betters, particularly when a lord had gone out of his way to do them a good turn.
“They were held captive by agents of Velheim.” All true, though the ringleader happened to be a practitioner of foulest magics, the entire keep trapped in a place eerie and strange. “Mord tried to negotiate for everyone's life, and when we got close enough, I ran the ringleader through.” Also technically true. Though of hideous arachnid beasts lurking in darkest shadow, or bodies warped by madness and something far worse, she said not a word.
Eloquin flashed a bleak smile. “You performed extremely well this day, Calenbry. Your tactics were incredibly foolish, three of you charging twenty Velheim knights head on, when you should have simply harried them, picking them off piecemeal. If you had miscalculated, if Hyve had lacked the will to charge into the knights you had pinned in place, but seconds from overwhelming you...”
“There was no time, master, you and the others-”
“- I know!” Eloquin snapped, eyes blazing. “More the fool I, not to have expected necromancers in play.”
“Master Eloquin, no one could have expected a necromancer's tricks. We have never encountered the like on any of our other missions.”
“That we haven't didn't mean it was beyond the scope of possibility, Calenbry, as we have seen for ourselves firsthand.”
Jess nodded ruefully at that.
Twilight tisked. "Our poor general is out of sorts. As much as he is a master of all things martial, upon the living world alone does his province extend. The seasons have no place in Shadow, and Shadow's tactics alone he cannot fully comprehend."
Jess swallowed, chilled by her familiar's words.
Eloquin sighed. “You pulled triumph from the maw of tragedy, even if it was luck as much as skill that saved you, so I will overlook your lies for today, Calenbry. Now find whatever words you seek, but when next we speak, I expect a full accounting!”
&nbs
p; Jess swallowed, at a complete loss for words.
“I know what it means when a soldier takes off his steel, girl. I expect you to have written out the account of this day before your head hits your pillows. Are we clear?”
Jess felt her cheeks blaze with those words, yet she had the discipline to meet his gaze and flinch not at all as tightly rolled papyrus and arcane quill were slipped into her hand, peripheral vision detecting no one looking their way as she discretely slipped it into her pouch.
Jess felt the pat of her familiar's paw against her throbbing cheek. “Now is when you bow your head and walk away, Jess.”
Jess grimaced and did just that, more relieved than words could say to mount a restive Mercy once more, comforted by Twilight's smug smile.
“Twilight?”
“I forget, sometimes, how fast he can travel when he is in a mood.”
Jess blinked at this.
“Do not worry about Malek, my mistress. I have no doubt that when you next awaken from slumber, our brother will be by your side once more.”
Jess shuddered with relief. “Twilight, are you sure?”
Her familiar just shrugged. “He has never let me down before.”
And with those words Jess led the way back through woodland paths only she could seem to find, their band of three score students making good time despite their injured, former captives mounted upon seized mounts sobbing their relief, Jess tuning out Mord's boasting as the surviving Aspirants heaped him with praise.
Jess grinned as her fellow Squires did the same for her, Lucas himself clapping her shoulder and dipping his head. "You're the most headstrong girl I've ever known, Jess, and I'm damned glad to have fought by your side once more." He shook his head ruefully. "I thought we were dead for sure. Then you three had the mad idea to charge that band of knights, and it actually worked!" Lucas's gaze turned strangely solemn, grateful and reproving at once. "I'm a battlemage, Jess, so I won't even ask what foul magics you learned that let you foil a necromancer's trap. You saved my life, so far as I'm concerned, it was an angel's blessing, and I will take that with me to the grave." He chuckled ruefully. "Then you just had to add another notch of glory to your belt, daring the keep itself, when I would have bet money those screams were just another trap. The Goddess herself must favor you." He frowned even as Jess beamed at the praise. “Speaking of which, where is Malek?”
Jess swallowed and looked away, not knowing what to say.
“Bullocks. I'm sorry, Jess.”
Jess shook her head. “It will be okay, Lucas. Somehow, I'm sure he'll be back by our side before we know it. How is Liam?”
Lucas sighed. “Liam was hurt, Jess. Bad. He got thrown from his mount, right onto those bear traps. It's been a crazy day, but maybe, just maybe, if we can get him to the healers in time, they can save him.”
Jess swallowed, suddenly ashamed. “And you guys held back, because of us three.”
Lucas shrugged. "You weren't gone that long, an hour at most, and you did pull out a handful of survivors, even a noble lady and her child." He chuckled ruefully. "Besides, without your knack? We'd have to loop right around to Hyve's main property, clear as day before the entire world, our cover completely blown, tacking on an extra day to our journey before we can get Liam back to a proper Highrock healer, because no one else can find these bloody paths through the woods that come to you as clear as day."
Jess grimaced. “Spread no rumors about Sable, Lucas. Or her child. She seeks asylum, and the less people know about her, the better.”
Lucas frowned, dipping his head. “I'll make sure everyone knows to forget.” He flashed a bleak smile. “We're Squires, Jess. Forgetting the horrors we see and do is just part of the job. Now do you want to tell me why you're just wearing your gambeson?”
Her gaze turned apologetic. “Trust me, Liam, whatever story you make up for our friends is saner than the truth.”
Lucas shrugged. “Fair enough. Well, thanks for saving our hides.”
Jess smiled as her friend eased back into formation, delighting in being surrounded by lush foliage once more that seemed to open up into the grandest of corridors just when she needed it to. Jess felt strangely at peace, hypnotized by the soothing susurrations of branch and leaf. But she felt the weight of one last task and Eloquin's gaze upon her.
It was all she could do to focus and take the lead, Eloquin by her side, whispering softly to herself as she scribbled away, only praying she could understand what she had written when she glanced at it later, marking the back of her wrist so she would remember she had written the note. Of course, that assumed she would somehow forget the horror and savagery of that awful night, which Jess secretly thought unlikely.
Once they were back upon the main road, Jess found herself slipping into oddest reverie, ignoring the murmurs of students swearing that the passage behind them had closed back into impenetrable deepwood the moment they left. Sinking ever deeper into a gentle waking doze, hours seemed to pass by in moments, Jess lost in the endless motion of Mercy's gentle stride.
She was startled when she found herself jostled by none other than an intent looking Mord once they were before the Highrock stables once more.
“Don't fall asleep yet, Jess. It's dangerous to do that anywhere but in a bed you know well, after daring what we have tonight."
Jess smirked. "I'll be fine, Mord." Jess cracked a fierce yawn, surprised to find herself utterly exhausted, when normally she was all but bursting with manic energy after one of Eloquin's missions. She frowned at Mord, the intent way he was staring at her. "Why don't you go off to the revels, Mord? You know half the school will be there, eager to lose themselves in the arms of Highrock's deadly assassins before turning back into proper prudes once the revels are over."
A powerful hand clasped her own. "Come, Jess. Let the stablehands see to Mercy. You're exhausted. Let's get you to bed."
Jess frowned, slipping her hand free of Mord's own, but slowly, reluctant to antagonize him after fighting by his side. It was a strange thing, but they often struck an unspoken truce after blackening their daggers, their enmity not flaring until the victory celebrations had ended days later, and all was as it had been once more.
When Mord just shrugged and offered to escort her back to her quarters lest she collapse in the halls, she did not resist, too tired to think of a diplomatic way to turn down his offer, though she found reason enough to regret her decision as they approached the fine oaken door to her quarters.
A powerful hand stroked her cheek, even as another caressed her waist, Mord's dark eyes fastening upon her.
She frowned, and tried to gently push him back.
He was having none of it, his concern of before but a facade, his voice guttural with need. "You've teased me for too damn long, Jess. Goading me at every turn, pretending you hate me when I know how you hunger for my touch. Hunger to be dominated."
His hand slowly clenched a handful of her hair, Jess still wide-eyed with shock. "It is time for you to stop denying your fate! We are betrothed already, by our fathers' will. It is every man's right to embrace his future wife, and I will claim you, Jess. I will claim your heart, your body, your soul!"
His hot breath caressed her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her, and Jess froze for an awful moment of horrified confusion.
"Back off, Mord!" Jess shouted, her choking weariness leaving in a hot burst of rage spiked with fear, pressing fingers and thumb upon the soft spots of his wrist and hand before abruptly twisting and spinning around, Mord suddenly snarling and lurching back, rubbing his wrist.
Mord's nostril's flared, coal dark eyes glaring at her with a twisted mix of hunger and hate. "Always playing your games, Jess. Always taunting!"
Jess snarled, stepping back, her palm pressing against her door, which gently opened at her touch.
Even as Mord closed, Jess pinned him with her glare. "Tonight, my nemesis, we fought as one on the field of war. Are you really going to sully that, raping someone who killed to save y
ou? Risked her own life to save your sister? Your niece?"
Mord stopped cold, face an odd mixture of fury and disgust, though she knew not if it was towards her or himself.
Even as her heart raced, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
Mord shook his head and chuckled softly. "You flatter yourself. A dozen girls await my touch at the revels. I wouldn't demean my honor taking someone who didn't appreciate the prize before them." He sneered and spat. "I thought at last that you were wise enough to appreciate the one man at this school worthy of being your master. I see now that I was wrong."
He turned on his heels and walked away.
Twilight, strangely silent the entire time, nodded once in approval. "You fended him off without having to kill him. A good thing, really. It's always bad form to kill a man who had fought by your side only hours before."
Jess smiled even as she shook, trembling with the aftereffects of battle all too viscerally remembered, on top of an exhaustion unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
She stumbled into her room, sensing her door closing firmly behind her, hardly aware of the interval between gazing at her bed and falling under its luxurious covers, free of boots and gambeson, wearing only a cotton slip, and never had she felt such wonderful release as she did at that moment, head sinking into soft feather pillows, when a sudden niggling thought pricked her tired mind.
Mord had always been an ass, and she despised him, but she couldn't deny that he had a certain twisted sense of honor. And when his eyes had flashed and he had approached her a second time, there had been no real ire in his gaze. No hate.
Jess hissed, suddenly wondering if Hyve's students embraced agent's lessons as well, suddenly dreadfully certain she would find no trace of her report in her pouch.
Mord's goal hadn't been to take her by force. It had been to distract her, so she wouldn't even think to check her pouch until it was too late, or wonder why his hands had been at her waist in the first place.
Squire of War Page 13
