by M D Baker
“I’m not sure I like this plan of yours,” Tayson grumbled in response.
“I’ve spent the last five years hating Cyndhar for what happened to me…” I countered, stilling the rage that had already begun building up inside me. “Only to discover that I’d been betrayed by my own people; by a man I’d trusted my entire life.”
“This is how I finally find out who really killed my mother and sent my father off to war with forged orders.” Tayson rocked backwards at my disclosure.
“I can’t prove that yet, but I know it’s true.”
“My days of doubting you are long over, Countess,” he replied, a faint smile creasing his lips.
“However,” he paused, eyeing me cautiously when he continued. “Something Reynold told me is a bit distressing. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s what he refused to tell me.”
“As you probably understand, I was curious to discover what sort of magic you used to free us,” he probed. “Yet, he wouldn’t answer my questions.”
“Is it not enough to know that I saved your life?” I replied, attempting to use that fact as leverage against Reynold’s silence.
“Not really.” Tayson halted long enough for me to become concerned before he spoke again. “But I suppose it will have to do.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow, if you can spare me the escort.” I was relieved that he’d given in on the subject of my magic. Tayson clearly harbored some suspicions, but without knowing the truth, I didn’t care what those might’ve been. “I need to return to Oldbridge before our enemy can attack again.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.” He rose, signaling an end to our discussion. “There will be fewer than those who accompanied us here, but you should be safe enough.”
As I took my leave of the Cyndhari Lord, I realized how much things had changed. For years I’d had a very clear sense of who my enemies were, but that was gone, replaced with a muddled blend of friend and foe that couldn’t be defined by anything so obvious as borders or social standings. My allies lay on both sides of the Stillwater, as did my foes. Telling the two apart was no longer a simple matter; even a single error in judgment was all it would take to have me branded a traitor.
Returning to the viper’s nest of Farren’s nobility was perhaps the most dangerous path I could tread. Somewhere among them lay a snake far more deadly than the rest, one who probably already knew about me and might be planning my demise at that very moment. But like the rest of my life, the choice of where to step next was never my own. My feet were carrying me on a journey that had been laid out long ago; following the trail of Lady Korrine’s assassin was my destiny. Avenging her death would do more than right that one wrong, and putting an end to the senseless conflict between Farren and Cyndhar would spare countless others from suffering as I had.
My mind was so focused on those weighty issues that I didn’t notice the flowers had been cleared from the hallway until I reached my chambers. Once inside, I found a series of crystal vases upon nearly every surface, each brimming with white blooms and a single dark rose at their center. It was a powerful display, reminding me once again of the losses we’d endured. Yet there was a second message that suddenly became clear: unless something changed, it was a gruesome toll that would have to be paid over and over again.
The hesitation I’d been experiencing vanished in that moment. I owed a debt to those who’d fallen, and I promised myself that their sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain. Death would still come, that was unavoidable, but the heavy price of peace was no longer going to be paid in the blood of innocents—I’d be extracting it from those who sought war instead.
Chapter 22
After spending most of the previous day packing, I got ready quickly the following morning, eager to be on my way. It was odd to be leaving my home for the new one I hated so much, but I had a reason for going there, one that had replaced my old, empty life with a new sense of purpose. Stopping for just a moment, I teased out a pair of white blooms from a cluster of flowers, winding their stems around a single black rose—Tayson’s, perhaps. Once I’d fastened the small arrangement to the clasp of my cloak, I ventured downstairs to begin the journey to Oldbridge.
A small group of soldiers was waiting for me just beyond the outer doors, five of the former captives I’d rescued and Sergeant Reynold, though he was not in uniform. In place of the bloodred garb of the rest, he wore a tunic of deep blue: Cyndhar’s ancient colors.
“I simply cannot have a man in my service whose loyalty is in doubt,” Tayson sidled up beside me, his voice fairly dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you might find a place for him?”
“What about his family?” I replied, understanding the ruse that was in place yet concerned for Abby and their two children.
“They will be looked after until his return,” he assured me, hinting at the temporary nature of Reynold’s ‘banishment.’
Despite my reservations, I was in no position to reject the added security. In fact, having an alleged traitor in my ranks would probably work in my favor. The moral agility implied by his presence might serve as an irresistible lure for my prey, enticing them to come to me all the sooner.
Tayson’s gaze drifted towards the three flowers pinned across my chest, and he noted them with a degree of approval.
“I see you understand.”
“I’m not sure that I do,” I replied. “It just seemed appropriate.”
He half-smiled. “Modesty doesn’t suit you, Countess.”
I prodded him in return, enjoying the bit of banter as I waited for my horse to be brought from the stable. “What does, my Lord?”
Tayson froze, allowing his uncertainty to show in his furrowed brow. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Careful, my Lord,” I teased as he shifted from one foot to the other. “One might get the wrong idea.”
“I hope so,” he replied, his eyes darting away when he could no longer meet my gaze.
Tayson’s bold reply caught me off guard, and I wondered if I’d misinterpreted his meaning. Such directness was frowned upon among the nobility who considered toying with each other’s emotions as something of a sport. Many had been made to look the fool with just a handful of coy phrases, so courtship was practiced with careful maneuvering, not blatant overtures.
“It seems my horse is here,” I muttered as the mount was brought to a halt just a few feet away.
“Amarrah.” There was no mistaking his tone this time. “Please, be safe.”
Fearing what I might see in the depths of Tayson’s hazel eyes, I dared not turn around. I’d become accustomed to fending off false suitors and those who sought to take advantage of my vulnerable position; the thought of confronting someone whose intentions were sincere left me grasping at straws. I wasn’t sure what he saw in a Countess who had nothing but a worthless title to offer, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him as I spurred my horse beyond the gates without a single backwards glance.
With the dangerous path ahead of me, Tayson was a distraction I couldn’t afford, yet with each passing mile, thoughts of him weighed more heavily on my mind. There was no practical reason for him to have an interest in me, but that only made his overture all the more troubling. Valda had taught me how to protect myself from deception, but her lessons left me completely defenseless against Tayson’s apparently genuine feelings.
As the countryside passed by, I replayed our many conversations, recognizing that in each of them, he’d been nothing but completely open. The deceptions I thought I’d uncovered were of my own creation, imaginings conjured up by a mind accustomed to deceit. Tayson’s only guarded words were the ones he’d spoken as I’d climbed atop my horse. Finally understanding this led me to realize his parting comment hadn’t been for my safety; the words he’d really spoken were ‘Please… come back.’
The flood of emotions that accompanied that didn’t help my focus one bit. While it was clear he had feelings for me, I had no gras
p of what I felt for him in return. With my life hanging in the balance, considering what might be in some distant future was a useless diversion, one that would probably get me killed. Tayson may have been an open book, but the nobles I’d be facing off against were well-practiced in the art of deception. I needed to be at my best to ferret out the truth amid their many lies, and at that moment, I was far from it.
It wasn’t easy to set him aside, but I eventually managed to banish Tayson to one of the little back pockets of my mind. That was where he’d stay until it was safe to let him out again.
While I’d been preoccupied, we’d made it to the bridge over the Stillwater. Crossing back into Farren was a strange experience, almost like returning to Blackwood Keep had been. This might have been my home at one time, but I was no longer truly of Farren. With the tangled web of conspiracy finally revealed, the thought of belonging to a single nation seemed almost ludicrous. Various factions within Cyndhar and Farren were working together to simultaneously undermine and support the kingdoms, ironically forging an alliance as they battled each other behind a veil of secrecy. They were already almost as one, though whether it was for the purpose of peace or to plunge us into war was yet to be determined.
The remainder of the trip back to Oldbridge passed unremarkably. Riding through the broad farmlands revealed an endless sea of crops ready for harvest, a bounty that Cyndhar might be in desperate need of before too long. If our enemy was able to resume its raids against Tayson, war was almost inevitable. Without soldiers to fend off those assaults, our only chance lay in uncovering the source of the treachery lurking in Farren.
The high outer walls of the capital came into view when we crested a small rise. Having seen me safely to my destination, our escort turned away, leaving only Reynold to accompany me while they returned to Cyndhar. We’d endured enough sour looks riding through the countryside; without the King’s guard protecting us, bringing the red-clad soldiers any closer would be asking for trouble.
“Never thought I’d see this place again,” Reynold commented as we rode through the wide gates.
“You’ll be sick of it soon enough,” I replied dryly.
Reynold grinned. “No doubt, my Lady.”
With his blue uniform, we drew little attention as I guided the sergeant through the winding streets, turning past the market on the way to my estate. The powerful currents of Life dominated the flow of magic as I entered the city’s confines, its overwhelming force nearly concealing everything else, save for the ever-present shadow of Death that lingered alongside it—polar opposites forever linked as one. Tracing a path along the familiar cobblestone byways, we soon arrived home, though there was little comfort in my return. The time I’d spent in Blackwood Keep had only served to sharpen the keen edge of my exile.
Since my arrival was unexpected, no one was waiting to welcome me as we led the horses towards the stables, but the creaking sound of the gates being thrown open drew Bronson’s attention, and he stepped outside to meet us in the small courtyard.
“I trust your mission was a success,” he probed, taking the reins from my hands as he cast a wary glance in Reynold’s direction.
“Yes,” I sighed, staring at the pavement between my feet as I feigned distress. “Unfortunately, at the cost of your captain’s life.”
“This,” I continued, vaguely gesturing in Reynold’s direction. “Is Reynold. He’ll be taking over for Griff.”
“Is he one of them?” Bronson replied, brazenly staring down the sergeant.
“Not anymore,” I answered, revealing the fiction we’d manufactured to explain his presence. “Reynold disobeyed orders to save my life, and his commander banished him for that crime.”
“Nowhere else to go?” Bronson sneered under his breath as he grabbed hold of my bags.
Only a short while ago, I would’ve joined in his disdain, but after discovering so many unsettling truths, I no longer had the same moral clarity. Good and evil cared nothing for which side of the border one came from, and reality was even harder to distinguish from all the lies I’d been told. Yet my purpose was to find my way inside the conspiracy plaguing our nations, so I continued to play the role of a blissfully ignorant noblewoman.
I cast a knowing glance in Bronson’s direction as we headed inside. “What better motivation?”
Chapter 23
Helred and Jaine prepared a wonderful feast that evening, where I introduced Reynold to the rest of my household. Suspicions of him were obvious, of course, but that was part of my plan. Although my return home was filled with mixed emotions, both over my presence and purpose in Oldbridge, I was relieved to discover that nothing unusual had occurred during my absence.
The game I was playing required me to wait for my opponents to make the next move, so over the following days, I simply resumed my normal routine. I made several short trips to the market and ran a few other errands under the protection of my new guardian, ensuring that his presence was noted by those who’s function was to observe such goings-on.
Within that time, I received a formal request for a visit from the King’s attendant—right on schedule. Not too soon to imply any sense of impatience, yet fast enough to stress the importance of the matter. Denying the invitation wasn’t truly an option; it was just a formality to be observed on such occasions.
Along with that invitation came a slew of others, and I suddenly found myself the object of a great deal of curious scrutiny. Few of my fellow nobles had any dealings with our counterparts in Cyndhar, so it was no wonder that I’d climbed to the top of the social calendar. I’d quickly fall back to the bottom of the barrel once they grew bored of my stories, so I knew that my position there wouldn’t last very long. Not that it mattered. I held nothing but scorn for my so-called contemporaries—all I needed from them was to make a single connection.
Carefully choosing my attire for the day, I wore one of my older dresses; still fine, yet beginning to show a few indications of wear. The outfit lent an air of authenticity to the image I was trying to convey of a struggling but once-proud noble—one who might be eager to sacrifice her conscience for the right opportunity.
As the noon bells rang, Jaine informed me that my visitor had arrived, and Reynold escorted him to my study before they’d finished tolling. The King’s steward was just as stiff and formal as I recalled, refusing to take the seat I offered in favor of standing before me.
“Did all go well for you in Cyndhar?” he began, absent any formalities.
“You know it did not,” I snapped, gliding into my role as a besieged noblewoman.
His brow arched in a knowing fashion. “Yet you managed to replace your losses.”
“My guard has been made whole,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “I have not.”
“Were you truly that close?”
“Captain Griff was my protector even before I knew who I was,” I answered truthfully. “His death will haunt me for many years.”
“And your mission?”
“The bandits are no more.” I waved him off with a dismissive gesture. “Cyndhar is safe... for now.”
The steward seemed to be satisfied with my answer, offering the slightest nod as he turned to leave. I thought perhaps I’d underplayed my hand until he paused with the door half-open.
“Was there something else?” I prompted before the opportunity slipped from my grasp.
“Will you be at the feast this evening?” he replied with a question of his own, continuing once I’d nodded in response.
“If you’re willing to go into a bit more detail,” the steward finished before taking his leave. “The Duchess might be interested in hearing more about your time in Cyndhar.”
That was a chord I hadn’t planned on striking.
As the King’s Sorceress-Advisor, Duchess Surellia was the second highest-ranking official in Farren’s government, but attracting her attention was seldom a good thing. While her friendship could be a true blessing, Surellia was known to be quite fickle, o
ften discarding long-held relationships over trivial matters. Although her curiosity over what had occurred in Cyndhar was expected, I’d anticipated that a report from the King’s attendant would suffice. Coming face-to-face with the Duchess for any reason was a cause for alarm, not celebration.
Despite his somewhat cryptic tone, as I began pacing across the floor, the offer the steward left behind was clear. If what he told Surellia piqued her interest, she might seek me out that night for more information. From there I’d have to decide what to tell her and how much reality to blend into my carefully crafted fiction. The Sorceress-Advisor was no fool and not one to be easily deceived, but telling her the truth was out of the question. For my plan to have any chance of success, I needed to lure out the conspirators with a tale of friction and dissent, not the friendly cooperation that had taken root between Tayson and me. I just had to hope that my skill was up to the task of deceiving the most powerful woman in all of Farren.
The event that evening was one of many I’d been invited to, and although I’d planned on attending, I made a few quick changes as I got ready. Setting aside the dated gown, I dressed in one of the new outfits I’d purchased after returning home. The sparkling green fabric trimmed in silver was far more befitting of the image I was trying to project as an Unlanded Countess desperate to make a good impression. Hurried arrangements for a carriage ride to the grand affair completed things—bringing Reynold along as my guardian for the night was the perfect finishing touch.
Arriving at the estate, the sergeant helped me down from the carriage, leaving me as he took his place with the other bodyguards at the fringes of the large courtyard. With the fair weather, the event was held outside, allowing our gracious hosts to flaunt the expansive grounds and opulent gardens of their estate. The oversized property was a ridiculous extravagance, awash with meticulous lawns, pristine sculptures, and ornate topiaries, serving as a constant reminder of the great wealth and power its owners held—something I took careful note of. It was exactly the sort of position one would need to pull off a cross-border alliance with Cyndhar.
