The Ranger's Sorrow: The King's Ranger Book 4

by AC Cobble

  Rew, still looking at the Arcanum, cracked his knuckles. “Well, no one’s told me to stay away.”

  The twins shared a look then asked, “Are you sure?”

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” replied Rew. “We need help, and I don’t know where else to get it. It’s worth the gamble to go inside.”

  “Rew,” said Anne, shaking her head. “Instead of smashing our way in like drunken louts, why don’t we go see the women first? Whatever is happening in the Arcanum, they’ll know about it. If we go in, let’s go in with eyes open.”

  Rew rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah…”

  “I’ll talk to her,” assured Anne.

  “Talk to who?” asked Zaine. “Is anyone else as confused as I am?”

  “Mother Solomon,” said Anne. “Last time he visited the colony… Well, Rew killed her predecessor.”

  “Oh,” murmured Zaine.

  Vurcell cleared his throat then mentioned, “We’ve told our story, but I’d like to hear yours. Last we heard anything from you, Rew, you were still on the run with the children, which doesn’t seem to have changed, but we heard the commandant was chasing you personally, that he’d gotten involved in the Investiture, and now he’s dead. We heard what happened in Spinesend, and rumors are flying about Carff and Jabaan. The king and his advisors haven’t said anything officially, but to the rangers who knew you before Eastwatch, all those sound like your work. Did you kill Vyar? Did you… Rew, I’ll just come out and ask. Are you a part of the Investiture?”

  Rew strode toward his pack and removed a leather-wrapped bundle. He placed it on the table and looked between the twins before unwrapping the package. Ang and Vurcell stared open-mouthed at the two enchanted falchions.

  “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover,” said Rew. “I don’t suppose you keep any ale around here?”

  Chapter Nine

  The last time he’d seen Mother Solomon, her face has been a visage of horror. She’d been shocked and terrified at what he’d done. She was a decade older now, and only echoes of that horror showed in her eyes when she saw him. The decade had softened her stare, but the rest of her was as hard as always. She still had the same steel-colored hair twisted into a tight bun, and he imagined she hadn’t let it down since he last saw her. Her skin was kissed by the heat of the sun, wrinkled around her lips where she frequently pursed them. Perhaps those furrows were a little deeper? Her back was as straight as an ice sickle, and the hands clutched in front of her still looked strong.

  She was toughened by the labor of the colony, but when Rew held her gaze, he saw lingering pain. It was holding that hurt which had softened her. Her pain was her own burden, and she had carried it before Rew came into her life, but he had to acknowledge he’d added his share to the weight on her shoulders.

  She turned from him and blinked slowly. She asked, “You want to go into the Arcanum?”

  “We do,” confirmed Anne.

  Mutely, Mother Solomon shook her head. Unconsciously, her gaze drifted to the northern wall, where a quarter league beyond was the Arcanum. She shuddered.

  Anne frowned. “In my time, the Arcanum was not a place to fear.”

  “Aye, but that was a different time. For years now, the Arcanum has been… odd. The experiments have gotten darker.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Anne arched an eyebrow and commented, “I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t know how to step around the explosions and fumes those men release.”

  “Like all men release,” quipped Zaine.

  Anne scowled at the thief and might have been fighting to hide a smile, but Mother Solomon leaned forward and pinned Zaine with her gaze.

  “It’s not a matter for jesting, girl. What goes on in there… I heard you know the new captains down at the fort? Surely they told you about the missing soldiers? Some of my women have gone missing as well. Ever since that man from the east, Arcanist Salwart, began his—“

  “Arcanist Salwart?” burst Anne, letting her hands drop to her side and shooting a quick look at Rew. “Did you say Salwart?”

  “You know him as well?” queried Mother Solomon, frowning. She sat back, suddenly appearing frightened. “We have a history, and I owe you, but Anne, in the Mother’s eye, there are unforgivable sins. That man—”

  “We know of him,” clarified Anne. “I’ve never met him and wouldn’t recognize his face if I saw it. We’re not his friends, and we will not be.”

  “What is Arcanist Salwart doing here?” asked Rew. “He was assigned to Duke Eeron in Spinesend and was involved in a terrible conspiracy. I’d never heard of him until several months ago, but it seems he’s been busy since then.”

  Mother Solomon hugged herself as if trying to stay warm. “He’s been showing up here for about four years, if I recall correctly. At first, I thought he was quirky like the rest of them, if a bit more demanding. Arcanists get like that in their later years, but then he began requesting women—girls—and when some of them did not return, I realized it was not for the usual reason.”

  “The usual reason?”

  Mother Solomon snorted. “Aye, the usual reason. This is a place for women who, for whatever reason, no longer want to be within the confines of Vaeldon’s society. Sometimes, it’s because they prefer a simpler life. More often, they’re running from something. We, and the king’s men, keep them safe. They never have to fear harassment from a man while they are here, but some of the women aren’t entirely done with men. They may want company for a night, or they may want a more permanent arrangement. It’s natural. It’s going to happen whether or not I approve, so I facilitate. Matchmaking, they’d call it in the noble’s courts. No one is forced, but if that’s what the woman wants… The arcanists, of course, are like all men.”

  Shifting in her padded chair, the older woman continued, “In truth, most of the arcanists are not bad men, they are just distracted and reckless. They spare little thought to the women here except when they need something or they’re aroused. I personally don’t appreciate such a base, transactional relationship, but some of the women do. Who am I to judge? Arcanist Salwart was different. When he first inquired, I wrote him to say we were not a brothel, and our women aren’t here to lay with a visitor at his whim. He came to see me in person the next day and said that he wasn’t going to sleep with the women. He needed them as assistants in his lab, he told me. It’s traditional for younger men, arcanists in training, to serve that purpose, and I told him as much. He claimed his experiments required a woman and that he would make it worth their while. He badgered me until I agreed to ask if anyone was willing. Some were. He was offering gold... I saw them over the next months when I was in the Arcanum, and they seemed like different people. Then, I never saw them again.”

  “Years before the king’s soldiers went missing,” murmured Rew, rubbing his hand over his head, thinking he needed a shave.

  “I reported the missing women to the old captain of the king’s legion here, but he did nothing,” continued Mother Solomon, her voice bitter. “I don’t have any vested authority from the king, but I did what I could to keep my women from entering the Arcanum, and most listened. We lost some more over the years, but as I was told, we’ve always lost some. Things changed again a few months ago. All but a few of us were barred from entering the Arcanum, which was fine by me. I told you, the experiments were growing darker up there.”

  “Darker,” mused Rew. He glanced at Ang and Vurcell who were standing behind them in a corner. He raised an eyebrow.

  Ang shrugged.

  Her eyes on the captains of the guard as well, Mother Solomon continued, “But then, half a company of the king’s legion went inside and never returned. The king has to know what is occurring but does nothing. I cannot decide if that gives me comfort or makes it worse.”

  “Worse,” said Anne. She turned to Rew. “These dark experiments, do you think…”

  He nodded. “Aye, but four years back? Cin—ah, she was no more than a gi
rl then, still in her father’s home. Could Salwart have been plotting since then?”

  Anne shrugged. “Maybe the experiments he was conducting here led him to the east.”

  Raif, who had been silent up until that point, cleared his throat and asked Mother Solomon, “Ah, can you not write to the king? Or use the mirrors the captains have down in the fort? Surely if someone in Mordenhold understands… Have you even tried?”

  Mother Solomon turned to Rew and remarked, “The king’s attention on this place has never been benign. There are those who recall the last time we called to our liege. It will not happen again. Not in my lifetime.”

  “I-I don’t understand,” stammered Cinda. “Was Salwart running experiments to… To serve the prince, as we suspect? If he, ah, if he was attempting what we suspect of him, then I believe the king would oppose his… research.”

  Mother Solomon’s eyes darted between them, clearly understanding Cinda was speaking around her point but not knowing what the girl was getting at. The older woman looked curious, but she didn’t pry. She’d been around the arcanists enough to know that there were some secrets she was better off never learning.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” said Rew. He frowned. “If we should find out, that is.”

  The Arcanum being sealed from visitors was an unexpected complication. He’d intended to find an arcanist who studied necromancy and to beseech their help in training Cinda. Even if they had no magical talent, the arcanists would be familiar with the various spells which could be cast, and they would be a better guide than no guide at all. There were few talented necromancers in the kingdom, so going to the Arcanum had seemed a better option than wandering the countryside looking for people wearing crimson robes.

  For the arcanists, the chance to closely observe a talent like Cinda would be all the encouragement they needed. It’s not like the king was going to agree to them watching his foul casting. Rew had hoped it would work. He’d thought it would work.

  But just because the place was closed, did that mean they should turn away? They might not find help for Cinda inside, but if they found Arcanist Salwart or what he was working on… The man had been in the employ of Heindaw, and he’d been behind the plot against Baron Fedgley. Salwart had been involved from the start—King’s Sake, all of it might have started just up the hill from them. Rew didn’t think they could turn away from the opportunity to question the man about both the plot against the Fedgleys and anything they could learn about Heindaw’s current situation. Information on either topic could be invaluable.

  “If we go in, how do we do it?” asked Anne, apparently thinking along the same lines as Rew.

  Mother Solomon frowned. “You don’t. You shouldn’t, at least.”

  “We need to.”

  “Lass, I don’t remember you being so bullheaded when you lived here.”

  “Then you don’t remember me well,” retorted the empath.

  “It’s dangerous to—“

  “What do you remember of my time here?” demanded Anne.

  Mother Solomon glanced at Rew.

  Anne gave her a bitter smile. “Before that.”

  Clearing her throat uncomfortably, Mother Solomon looked down at her hands.

  “You and your predecessor pressed me to work healing the injured and the sick of this place,” reminded Anne. “I was only eight winters, the first time. I took the pain of this entire colony for a decade. My childhood was spent absorbing the agony of you and the rest so that no one else had to feel. I felt it all. After that, do you think I’m scared of getting hurt?”

  Mother Solomon’s hands clasped tighter together, but she did not respond.

  “And then you assigned me to those upstarts, those rebels against the king.” Anne sat forward and jabbed her finger at the older woman. “I was barely more than a girl, left alone in a sea of hundreds of men. You claim to protect women? What about me when I was a girl? What do you think would have happened to me if I wasn’t so valuable to those men? Pfah. Instead, all that was required was sharing their agony as the king crushed them under his boot. I wonder if the king knows you supported the uprising?”

  Mother Solomon bolted upright and hissed, “Quiet! That was a long time ago, and things have changed. I didn’t… I don’t—“

  “I felt a thousand beatings, accidents, assaults, and deaths when I was a child. I didn’t have a choice. You put that on me.”

  “We needed you,” whispered Mother Solomon.

  “And I need you now,” declared Anne. “This won’t balance the ledger. That can’t be done, but it’s something.”

  The older woman, evidently unable to meet Anne’s look, turned to the back corner where Ang and Vurcell were sitting. She flinched.

  Ang raised a hand and said, “Don’t mind us.”

  Anne glanced at the two captains of the king’s guard and grinned. Then stiffening her expression, she turned back to Mother Solomon. “When I was younger, when you forced me to join the rebellion, I was not strong enough or confident enough in myself to say no. I went along with your demands despite what it cost me.”

  “It wasn’t like… We weren’t a part of it. We just… They needed healing and a place to hide. Food…”

  “What was it like?” questioned Vurcell. He leaned forward, his armor rustling and drawing Mother Solomon’s eyes to his black tabard.

  Shushing him, Anne continued, now addressing her comments to the rest of the group, “I had little choice in the matter. Once I knew about it, it was go along, or they’d kill me. I went along, if only for a brief period. Rebellion against the king is a dangerous art. They lasted two seasons before they were snuffed out. I can’t imagine it caused much of a stir in Mordenhold, and I doubt there was even a ripple in the rest of the kingdom. Still, a rebellion must be dealt with. Someone has to pay, and the king’s black legion was marching to the colony to collect the price. That’s when I met Rew. Both the colony and I were spared, but someone had to pay. Baroness Solomon became Mother Solomon that night, following the death of our previous leader. Levies were raised, there was a probation which lasted years. I was forced to flee the only home I’d known. Everyone paid some price, except for her.”

  “And now you’ll have your revenge,” cried Mother Solomon, her eyes darting between Rew and his former rangers, Ang and Vurcell. “Under the guise of asking for my help, you’ve sought my blood.”

  Anne shook her head. “I don’t want your blood. I’m merely setting the terms for us to bargain. You’re going to give us what we want, and in exchange, these men will not chop your head off.”

  “Lass, you’re a fool,” cried Mother Solomon, standing from her chair and backing away from Ang and Vurcell. “You’ve implicated yourself as thoroughly as you have I. You marched with the rebellion! You aided them with your healing! You think the king will forgive either of us?”

  “The king isn’t here.”

  “Those two are king’s men.”

  “They wear the black of the king’s legion, but they are mine, my friends, my family. That’s a bond that will not be broken. Not by you. Not by Vaisius Morden. We saw signs of life inside of the Arcanum. People are still there, and they have to eat. Someone from the colony is going up there. Get us inside, and do it with a guide who knows their way around.”

  Caught between a glare at Anne and hooded looks of fear at Rew and his former rangers, Mother Solomon nodded curtly. She rasped, “There is a woman, but I don’t know if she’ll help you. I cannot speak for her, but I will arrange for you to meet. Come here tomorrow morning shortly after dawn.”

  With little else to discuss, they all stood and left.

  On the way back to the fort, Ang slung an arm over Anne’s shoulder. “Rebelled against the king, did you?”

  “It wasn’t much of a rebellion, and it was never going to work. Live and learn, and do it better the next time, eh?”

  “The next time?” asked Vurcell, taking her other side. “Is there a little more you want to add t
o your story from earlier? What’s Rew up to that he isn’t telling us about?”

  Rew coughed into his fist. “It’s not your fight, and it’s dangerous.”

  Ang laughed. “We’re members of the king’s rangers, Rew. If something has got to be done about the old man, then we’re the ones who ought to do it.”

  “It’s very dangerous,” added Rew. “It’s… it’s beyond our skill, both your skill and mine.”

  Vurcell looked over his shoulder at Cinda. “I see. You think she—“

  “Not here, not now,” interrupted Rew. “Some things are dangerous to discuss even away from others and out in the open.”

  “Rew, we want to help,” said Ang. “Not just us, but the other rangers, too. They all know the stories, even if the rest of the kingdom has forgotten them. We know what price Vaeldon pays for Morden’s rule. You cannot do this alone. Let us walk this path beside you.”

  Rew scratched his beard. He glanced between the twins. They were earnest, and he knew they understood what they were offering—risking—but could he accept?

  “You’re going to take help from the children but not us?” barked Ang. “Blessed Mother, Rew, you’re strange. Tell us how we can help, or we’re going to follow you like motherless ducklings until you do.”

  “Lucia,” murmured Anne.

  They were standing upon the wide front porch of a humble cottage. The awning that covered the porch was as large as the roof that covered the rest of the building. The cottage had an impressive view, looking over the fort below and across the broad expanse of the plains. The sides of the porch were lined with heavy wooden troughs filled with herbs and flowers. It was like the backyard of the apothecary’s cottage in Spinesend, thought Rew, though the woman in front of them didn’t have any of the tenderness he’d seen in the apothecary. It was like the empathy had been boiled off of her.

  “Anne,” responded the woman, inclining her head slightly, her expression unchanging. Rew didn’t think the woman was pleased to see Anne on her porch, but she was too careful to show it. Instead, she remarked flatly, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”