Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  “Elôm… show me. Show me the truth.”

  Pressure built behind his eyes in the deafening silence.

  “Jace.”

  He snapped his head up, his gaze lifting to the dark silhouette in the barred window, and pushed to his feet. Now that he could see better, he recognized Elian.

  “Here.” The man stuffed a bundle through the bars.

  Jace took it in his hands and shook it out to find a heavy woolen cloak. He put it around his shoulders, and warmth built underneath.

  Next through the bars came another linen-wrapped bundle and a canteen. Jace didn’t have to open the bundle to smell the food. His stomach gurgled. He hadn’t had anything to eat since supper last night.

  “Thanks,” he told Elian, truly grateful. A thought struck him. Had this been Elôm’s answer? How could he know?

  “How are you doing?” Elian asked.

  Jace shrugged. He had faced worse conditions and predicaments, but it didn’t diminish the heaviness of the situation. Even if Rothas didn’t kill him, this forever erased any hope he had for a close relationship with his family.

  “Your mother rode to Brandell a bit ago to try to get Lord Dunrick’s help in releasing you.”

  Jace fought the immediate hopelessness as he considered this. Perhaps his grandfather would help, but had he made enough of an impression in one evening to secure sympathy from the man? Not likely.

  Elian must have read the doubt in his eyes. “Don’t worry. If he doesn’t, your mother will find a way, and she won’t be without help.”

  Jace stared at the man who could have been his father, recollecting the way he had stood up to Rothas in the garden and risked demotion or worse to protect him. How had people like him, Kyrin, and Rayad come to care so much? Jace thanked him again, his voice coming in a rough murmur.

  Elian nodded. “I’ll be around again in a while if you need anything more.”

  Jace returned to his spot. At least it was still dry. He set the canteen of coffee to the side and opened the bundle of sliced bread, cheese, and cold sausage. It looked far more appetizing than any of the fancy fare he had consumed during supper. His stomach growled again. He reached for one of the sausages, but his hand stalled. If this had been Elôm’s answer, how could he not express gratitude? Guilt rose up inside him. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, but struggled for words. If only he didn’t feel like he was only talking to himself.

  “Thank You,” he forced out. It was all he could say, but he hoped his sincerity was enough if Elôm did hear him.

  Rachel stormed into Brandell, her wet, mud-spattered skirt tugging against her legs. She swiped back the bedraggled strands of hair that fell in her eyes. Halfway here, she had ceased trying to keep her hood up. This was not the day for maintaining her image as a lady. But she must have looked like quite a sight when she went marching into the drawing room where her family was gathered. Both her mother and Charles lifted their brows at her, but Rachel fixed her gaze on her father, who had a stack of letters in his hands and peered at her over his spectacles.

  “Were you aware of Rothas’s scheme against Jace?” She had realized on the way that her father could very well have played a part in it, though she tried not to sound too accusing. She did need his help, after all.

  His forehead wrinkled deeply. “What scheme?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Rothas has falsely accused Jace of attacking one of the servant girls and now wants to hang him.”

  Her mother gasped, and Charles exclaimed, “What?”

  “I’ve tried talking to Rothas,” Rachel went on, still focused on her father, “and so has Lady Anne, but he will not listen. I need you to change his mind.”

  Silence hung deafeningly. Her father didn’t move, and Rachel stared hard at him. Now was his chance to make up for what he had done in the past. He could save Jace this time, instead of taking him from her.

  Finally, he asked, “Why?”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “Because he’ll hang Jace if you don’t!”

  “If he attacked the girl, then I’m sorry to say that he’s getting what he deserves.”

  Rachel balled her fists. How could her father be this way? “But he didn’t attack her. Rothas made it up.”

  Her father pulled off his spectacles, giving her an impatient look. “Can he prove that he didn’t? Was anyone with him last night?”

  The blood heated in Rachel’s face, and she had to remind herself to hold her temper. Going off on him in desperation wouldn’t solve anything. “Jace wouldn’t do that.”

  “You’ve known him for how long? Two days?”

  “Father, please, I am begging you for help to save my son. You took him from me once; please don’t allow him to be taken from me again.”

  He scowled and broke eye contact. “This is an Ashwood matter. I will not get into it.”

  Rachel drew a breath, unsure of what words might come out next, but her mother spoke first.

  “Henry, I love you, but right now I think you’re wrong and being impossibly cruel.”

  “What?” he growled. “There is nothing that proves to me that he didn’t attack the girl.”

  “Of course he didn’t. We both know this is Rothas’s doing to get rid of him. Don’t sit there and pretend you didn’t see it written all over his face last night.”

  Rachel’s father stared stubbornly at his letters, apparently trying to ignore both of them.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you know that I love Jace as my grandson, and if you allow Rothas to go through with this, it will be very hard for me to accept.” Her voice dropped a bit lower. “I don’t want to go back to the days after you took him away the first time.”

  Rachel remembered those days. Her parents had barely spoken. It was only her mother’s eventual conversion to faith in Elôm that had repaired the marriage. She wanted to slap Rothas for possibly turning them against each other again.

  Her father stiffened, but he was an incredibly stubborn man. “This is not my problem.” He shoved his spectacles farther up his nose and set a stern frown on his letters.

  Rachel just stood for a long moment, her entire core shaking. She had really thought she could convince him to help. All the hurts she had experienced in losing Jace the first time flooded back.

  “Fine,” she ground out, “but don’t think I won’t do whatever it takes to save him. Then we’ll see if it becomes your problem.” Whatever she did, Rothas would be furious, and her father may just have to step in to protect her from his wrath.

  She spun around and strode out. Her time here was wasted. Now she needed to get back to Jace and form some sort of plan. She would die before she let her husband kill her son.

  “Rachel.”

  She halted and looked back as Charles caught up to her.

  “Let me gather a few things and I’ll go with you. He can’t hang Jace if I object.”

  A wobbly smile broke out on her face, and she squeezed his arm. She wouldn’t have to face Rothas alone. “Thank you.”

  The next time Jace heard his name, his heart jumped, for it was the soft lilt of Kyrin’s voice. He scrambled to his feet, meeting her at the door. Rayad stood with her. Wrapping his fingers around the bars, he peered down into her eyes that were almost the same color as the misty sky. They lacked their usual cheery light.

  She searched his face. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” He ducked his head sheepishly. He had to stop doing that to her. “It’s not too bad. Elian brought me a cloak and some food.”

  “Good,” Kyrin breathed out, looking much relieved. She licked her lips and glanced down at the puddle just outside the door. “Your mother returned.”

  Jace’s heart pounded hard again. “Was Lord Dunrick with her?”

  Her face cast down, she shook her head.

  Jace exhaled. He hadn’t gotten his hopes up, but the disappointment still stung. His grandfather didn’t want to save him.

  “But your uncle cam
e,” Kyrin hastened to tell him.

  As future Earl of Dunrick, Charles had nearly as much power as his father. Even so, Jace had gone through many scenarios in his mind, yet hadn’t come up with one that had a perfect ending.

  Kyrin reached up and put her hand around his. The feel of her soft fingers, warm despite the murky weather, sent a pleasant tingling all the way up his arm. It would probably be in his best interest to pull away, but he couldn’t manage it.

  “We’ll get you out of this, Jace.” She gazed up at him, a promise in her eyes.

  “I know you will,” he murmured. He looked at her hand again, wishing it could stay there always.

  Then she pulled it away, ducking her head as if embarrassed. As the warmth she left behind slowly faded, Jace looked at her solemnly.

  “Earlier, I wish I could have assured you that I am innocent of Rothas’s charges.” He searched her eyes for any sign of doubt, finding none, and then glanced at Rayad. “I never left my room last night.”

  At Rayad’s nod, Jace returned his focus to Kyrin. “I would never do anything like that.”

  He didn’t know why he had such a passionate desire for her to believe him.

  “Of course not,” she replied. “I know that. I didn’t think for a moment it was true.”

  Jace slowly let out his breath as a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying lifted.

  Rayad stepped closer. “We’d better go. I don’t know what Rothas would think of us coming out here to see you.”

  Jace nodded, and they both left him. He remained standing at the door for a moment, and even though the drizzle still fell, things didn’t feel quite so bleak with Kyrin’s face in his mind and the memory of her hand on his.

  Rothas stormed from the drawing room, the door slamming in his wake. Charles shook his head. And he used to think his father was the most stubborn man he knew. Though he had used every bit of his persuasion and diplomacy skills to reason with his brother-in-law, Rothas wouldn’t budge. Charles could use his superior position to his advantage, but that would only anger Rothas further. No, he would save that for if the man actually made a move to hang Jace. Then he would use every avenue of power at his disposal. It wasn’t like him to pull rank, but he would for Jace, and Rothas wouldn’t risk ruin. Still, he had a little time to try to resolve this in a more peaceable manner.

  Moments after Rothas’s heavy footsteps died away, the door opened again. Rachel and Lady Anne peeked in with anxious expressions. They entered slowly, as if Rothas’s very presence still lingered in the room.

  “Well?” his sister questioned, her eyes hopeful.

  Charles shook his head. “He’s determined to go through with it.”

  Rachel’s face fell, and she sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. Charles drew his brows together, visions of her despair after Jace had disappeared the first time revisiting his mind. He wouldn’t let her lose him again.

  “I won’t let him hang Jace.”

  Their eyes met, and she nodded slowly, but didn’t appear heartened. So many terrible things had happened to her. He couldn’t blame her for fearing the worst in this situation. Still, he meant it as a promise. One way or another, he would stop this from happening. He even had a plan forming.

  He looked over at their guest. “Lady Anne, you believe he’s innocent, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I’ve known Jace for a while. He would never purposely harm an innocent person, especially not a woman.”

  Charles nodded and posed another important question. “How far would you be willing to go to ensure his safety?”

  “As far as it takes.”

  He smiled at the surety of her answer. This was a woman of spirit and strength. “Good. What about your men?”

  “They will do whatever necessary to protect Jace. They are all very close.”

  That would certainly help for Charles’s plan. “Who is in charge?”

  “Rayad. He’s like a father to Jace.”

  “Do you mind if I speak with him?”

  “Not at all.”

  “What are you going to do?” Rachel asked.

  Charles looked down at her, considering. “I think I’ll keep that to myself for now. That way Rothas has no one to blame but me.” Not that he wouldn’t place blame on anyone else involved, but at least Charles would be the mastermind. Elôm willing, he could stop Rothas from going on the warpath after this.

  He left the women in the drawing room and headed downstairs, praying silently. This seemed to be the best course of action, though, if Elôm had other plans, he prayed He would make them clear. The situation was dangerous enough already.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he met Walton. The butler’s eyes rounded at the sight of him in the servants’ quarters. He bumbled, flustered over such a thing. Poor man. The butler back in Brandell had grown used to Charles among the servants, making sure all was well.

  “Can I help you, my lord?”

  Charles smiled kindly. “Yes, if you would send for Elian, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Right away, my lord. Shall I send him to the drawing room?”

  “No, I’ll speak with him here.”

  Walton hesitated. “Very well, my lord.” He moved off with a confused look.

  Charles just smiled and made his way down to the servants’ hall. When he stepped into the room, he paused at the door to look around. A diverse and unfamiliar group sat around the far end of a table. Their tense faces left little doubt that they were the ones Charles sought. He approached them and addressed the oldest man of the group.

  “Rayad?”

  “Yes?”

  They all watched Charles, no doubt trying to determine whether he was friend or foe.

  “I am Charles Ilvaran. I wondered if I might speak to you in private.” He glanced over his shoulder. The group was alone in the Hall, but he lowered his voice. “It’s about Jace.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Rayad stepped away from the table and followed him. Elian met them on the way to the men’s quarters where they could talk in secret.

  “I just finished speaking with Rothas,” Charles told them. “He has every intention of hanging Jace as soon as possible.” He had gone so far as to mention the next morning. No doubt he wanted to minimize the time in which they could put together a rescue plan.

  Neither Rayad nor Elian responded, but their eyes said it all. They would never allow it.

  “There’s no reasoning with him, so that leaves it to us to take action,” Charles continued. “I believe the best thing we can do is simply remove Jace from the situation.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Rayad asked.

  “I will remain here tonight, and once everyone is asleep, you two can help me get him out. We’ll prepare his horse and supplies, and Elian, you can make sure there are no patrols at the main gate tonight.”

  Elian nodded. “I can do that.”

  Rayad too gave a nod of agreement. “Sounds good to me, but I would like someone to go with him. I’d go myself, but I can’t leave Lady Anne. It won’t be easy for Jace to leave like this.”

  Charles understood. He hated to see Jace go this way. He would never be able to return with Rothas around. But right now, saving Jace’s life was the most important. “Would one of your men go with him?”

  “Yes, I’ll talk to them.”

  “Good. Have Jace’s things ready, and I’ll meet you at the stable tonight when everything’s quiet.”

  Jace paced the cell, his boots squishing in the mud. Though the rain had finally ceased, he had lost any dry ground to sit on. Not that he could have sat still for long anyway with his pent-up nerves. He glanced out the window. The sky was black, and it was at least midnight by his reckoning. When Elian had brought him supper earlier, he had filled him in on the escape plan. Surely, they would come for him any time now… if Rothas hadn’t stopped them.

  He should be glad of the opportunity to escape, but the moment Elian had given him the news, a heavy weight s
ettled inside him. This would make him a fugitive to his family, and fugitives did not come for visits. He didn’t know how he had expected it to end, but not with such painful finality.

  Soggy footsteps approached outside a moment before Charles whispered his name. They had made it. The bolt on the door slid free and the door swung open. Jace stepped out. His uncle, his mother, Elian, and Rayad gathered around him. Holden stood behind them, holding Niton and his own horse, both saddled and ready.

  “Elian has stationed the guards so that there will be none on the main gate,” Charles said, keeping his voice low. “You shouldn’t have any trouble slipping out undetected.”

  Jace hesitated. He might get away safely, but that left the others in a dangerous position. “What about Rothas? He’ll know I didn’t get out on my own.”

  “He will have to contend with me,” Charles answered. “I won’t make it any secret that it was my doing.”

  But what if he couldn’t stop Rothas from taking his wrath out on someone else? Someone like Jace’s mother or his friends who would still be here? Maybe he shouldn’t go.

  Rayad stepped forward with instructions for him. Even if he protested, they would never let him stay.

  “We don’t know if Rothas will send men after you, so you need to keep riding until you reach the forest. You’ll have plenty of cover there. Holden is going with you. The rest of us will meet you there. I talked to Anne, and she plans to leave in the morning.”

  This eased Jace’s mind a small fraction. At least they wouldn’t be around Rothas for much longer.

  Silence settled. The nature of this escape plan pressed for haste, but Jace couldn’t bring himself to face goodbye. This was where it would all end, but he had only just begun to get to know his family.

  Finally, Charles offered his hand, and Jace gripped his arm.

  “It has been good to get to know you, Jace, even if the time was brief. Whatever happens from here, you will always be part of this family.”

  Jace fought the swelling emotion that tightened his chest. “I wish we could have had more time. Thank you for doing this for me.”