‘I don’t understand who might want to hurt them?’
‘Neither does he. He’s being very cautious. Cipres is a place that pays homage to the old ways. Tallinor, its huge and powerful neighbour, is renowned for its magic — I’ve been there. It has an academy to teach magic and encourage the use of it, so I believe Master Burrage is being wise and simply making sure that nothing untoward enters the palace. It’s easy money, Tilda. I will give you quadruple this amount when we next meet.’
Her eyes had widened in shock. She’d never seen so much money in her life, let alone held it. Owning it would be beyond even her brightest, most fanciful dreams.
‘What will you do with it, Tilda?’ he’d said then, as if reading her thoughts.
She remembered how she’d smiled, embarrassed. ‘I want to open my own shop. I’m tired of being a wandering seller. I’m getting too old for the cart and horse. I’d like to settle down with a cottage and a shop and have my own large garden that grows everything I need for my teas. I’d also branch out into herbal tonics.’
He’d given a shrug. ‘And now you can. That dream you hold in your heart can be a reality. You’ll have more than enough gold to settle down immediately. No more harsh winters on the road for you, Tilda.’
So now she waited, having been seduced by Layne Tentrell into spying on the queen. She hadn’t expected anything to occur, of course, and once she’d left him, the two gold coins clanking with a happy heaviness inside her robe, she’d begun to feel her spirits soar. This was going to be the easiest way to make money.
What she didn’t foresee was Layne Tentrell’s prediction and Master Burrage’s fears coming home to roost. She had not sensed any magic being used in the palace and yet, with all the deaths the next day, she could all but smell the trace of magic that had caused them. When that lovely young Hamelyn had found her and begged for her help, she’d gladly gone with him to assist his companion. Nothing had prepared her for the reek of magic that swirled around Hamelyn’s friend.
She hadn’t told Layne Tentrell — it was something she never admitted to anyone — that she could smell magic. That was her real talent. Her own magic was weak as she readily admitted, but she could smell magic on others — like Tentrell, just like Ham and like the boy’s good-looking friend. She’d been intrigued by the man, Cassien, and his power to kill. If he’d wanted to harm the royals he would have done so. Therefore, he was no enemy. Then what was he?
From what she’d gathered, no-one knew about Cassien’s magical skills — not even Hamelyn. Presumably, the chancellor and Empress Florentyna had been unaware of his skills when they’d appointed him champion. Tilda had decided to ignore Tentrell’s instructions and try to learn more about Cassien. He’d pressed her for directions and she’d simply said she might head north, which was the truth. Then she’d used all her money to take a carriage north to Mickelsham, where she knew he would come through on horseback. What she hadn’t expected was to see the queen in his company. While not in disguise, the queen was certainly doing everything in her power not to promote her identity, even though most people wouldn’t know what she looked like in everyday clothes. Darcelle was unmistakable, but Florentyna kept herself to herself.
An even greater shock had been to discover that Cassien was using his powers to aid the Crown. She needed to assure Layne Tentrell that the queen was in safe hands; that the magic, which had come to the palace, was working for the benefit of the royals.
And so here she sat beneath the walnut tree, awaiting Layne Tentrell to give him the good news and hopefully to earn some gold that would secure her future. She could never have anticipated soldiers bearing down on her. She could not outrun them and her mind was too slow to catch on that they had come for her.
‘I’m meeting Layne Tentrell,’ she’d bleated, ‘and I’m helping Chancellor Burrage,’ she’d added, breaking Tentrell’s rule to not mention the Crown’s involvement.
‘Burrage is dead. So is Tentrell,’ the hard-faced man who gripped her arm said. ‘And we were told by her highness, Princess Darcelle, before she left the palace, to meet with you. She wishes to speak with you about the disappearance of her sister.’
And something in Tilda’s sharp perceptions told her she would likely not live to see another sunrise.
‘It doesn’t pay to dance with the devil,’ she said to them but they couldn’t understand her meaning nor did they pay her much heed.
‘But why would he have a spy?’ Florentyna asked as Cassien was dumbfounded by Fynch’s words.
‘We are not dealing with a criminal, your majesty,’ Fynch said evenly. ‘We’re not even confronting a person as you might recognise one. We are trying to outwit an ancient mind that has already seen much cunning, and has watched Morgravia for centuries. Not only is he intrigued by the magic of Myrren that came from the Wild and so profoundly affected your forebears, which he is now using to his advantage, he also has a grudge against the empire because of the Wild itself and what it did to him.’
She frowned.
‘Cassien can tell you all about it on the next part of your journey. Suffice to say that, because of his interest in its magic and his grudge, he is levelling his wrath at the imperial Crown. It wouldn’t matter if your father sat on the throne, or Darcelle …’ He shrugged. ‘He wants to hurt the empire and the best way is through its figurehead. Killing is not his intention, I realise. Possessing you — as he did Gabriel, or more recently your sister — is his aim. His ultimate revenge would be to then use the Crown to turn Morgravia against Briavel and the former Razor Kingdom and incite wars between neighbours, destroying the empire from within.’
‘What about the Wild?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never known much about it, only that no-one goes there and most Briavellians fear it.’
‘Wisely so. It is not a place for people. It is beautiful, but it is magical and dangerous, erratic and powerful. It’s a strange marriage, you could say. It protects your realm and those of the empire, but the people, in turn, must respect its privacy. It is available to the animals and the forests and is full of magic so ancient that I am still discovering much of it. You have no need to enter its territory — no-one does — but it will fiercely fight to protect the land it neighbours.’
‘What a strange phenomenon,’ she murmured.
‘It is. I don’t know why it came into existence. I suspect the Wild has always existed, long before inhabitants came to the surrounding regions.’
‘You’re from the Wild, Fynch, aren’t you?’ she said, beginning to piece together the puzzle.
‘Yes. I am simply the keeper … a caretaker if you will.’
‘How are keepers chosen?’ Cassien wondered.
‘By the dragon and his filial mortal. Before me it was Elysius; before him I do not know.’
‘And after you?’ the queen said and then checked herself. ‘Forgive me, Fynch, that was unfair of me.’
‘Not at all. It is a valid question,’ he said with a disarming smile. ‘There will be someone chosen. The point is the keeper’s role is simply to observe the ebb and flow of magic beyond the Wild in order to keep it safe … and thus keeping our land safe. Magic exists everywhere, most of it harmless and used for the good of others — healing, herbals, farming, teaching …’ He shook his head. ‘Rarely, something sinister comes along and that’s when the keeper’s role becomes more important. It’s why I have paid a lot of attention to Cyricus and why his putting a spy or two in the palace does not surprise me in the least. His mind is far more complex and capable than you can imagine.’
Cassien stood. ‘So, if Tilda is a spy, she would be telling him that we’re headed to the Great Forest.’
‘I would imagine so.’
He paced. ‘She knew of my power, and now, Shar strike me, she knows that I can see him when I roam. I was too open with her.’ He gave a growling sound and Romaine’s ears pricked.
Dawning appeared in Florentyna’s expression. ‘Cassien, I remember now, she looked shocked when you ad
mitted that. Don’t you recall how she sat back, looking surprised. She covered it well but I was already slightly suspicious of her because she wouldn’t answer any of my questions easily. I mean …’ Florentyna searched for how to explain what she wanted to. ‘It was a feeling I had, that she was constantly deflecting me.’
‘Your feelings might have served you truly, my queen.’
Cassien scratched his chin. ‘Wait, Fynch! Although I agree that I’ve probably pointed Cyricus toward us, is that really such a bad thing?’
Florentyna looked at him askance, and Fynch frowned.
‘Hear me out. There’s going to be a confrontation, come what may. You say Gabe is in place and ready to lure Cyricus into the Void?’
‘He is. But he’s going to need Cyricus to feel threatened enough and angry enough to leave Darcelle’s body for the Void. As a royal, Cyricus is now in a position to command the Legion. You need time to hatch a plan to isolate him, and then force him to cast aside the body of the princess.’ He glanced with a grave expression at Florentyna. ‘Forgive me, your majesty. I know this is painful for you and must sound cruel.’ She nodded but her expression told him she understood. He returned his attention to Cassien. ‘You can hide and wait, but I think you should stay one step ahead. He will find you, make no mistake. He’s after Florentyna and has no reason to give up, for he is in no hurry — he’s probably enjoying himself and feels no sense of threat, although he knows now that we are aware of him. This will only intensify his pleasure of the game. He will employ more cunning, behave in a more outrageously vicious way to draw his enemies to him.’
Cassien nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right, it’s too dangerous. Tilda may be back at the palace already. Cyricus could be on his way. We need a bit more time.’
‘A wise precaution,’ Fynch echoed. ‘As I say, she may not be a spy, but trust those instincts of your queen. Go to Rittylworth. I suspect Ham will make for there, too.’
Cassien seemed to agree because he nodded. ‘What about you?’
‘I shall remain here,’ Fynch said, ‘or at least for the time being.’
‘But why? Surely —’
‘Cassien, my son, do not question me,’ he said. It was a reprimand, but said so gently that Cassien’s expression reflected no rancour. ‘I have my path to follow. You have yours.’ He directed Cassien’s gaze to Florentyna. ‘The queen is your total responsibility now. Do not think on me.’
‘How will I know what to do?’ Cassien asked, looking vaguely unnerved.
‘You and your brothers will know exactly what to do. I cannot tell you how events will come to pass. I can only tell you that you are each equipped to play your part. I can do no more. It is up to the Triad of my sons to best Cyricus.’ He pointed at the sword resting silently at Cassien’s hip. ‘Remember that was made for you.’
‘Beautiful, but I’ve had little need to draw it.’
‘Don’t ignore its presence,’ Fynch said, sounding cryptic.
‘When will we see you?’ Florentyna queried, knowing this was what Cassien really wanted to ask.
Fynch smiled and shuffled over, although it looked to be painful for him to do so. He took her hand in his and she felt his palm, dry and warm. The old man surprised her by kissing it. ‘Empress Florentyna, thank you for trusting me.’
‘I didn’t show it enough, did I?’ she said, wishing she could turn time back.
‘You were open to my concerns though, my queen. I know what I said resonated within you. If not, you wouldn’t have paid heed to Cassien, to Gabe, even Ham, and had enough faith to entrust your wellbeing to them.’
‘I hope to see you again under less anxious circumstances,’ she said.
‘I look forward to it, your majesty,’ and as his pale eyes sparkled, she thought she saw the gleam of a secret … and instinctively knew, and accepted, that he was avoiding the truth, perhaps for Cassien’s sake.
She nodded. ‘Take care, Master Fynch. Morgravia … indeed the empire owes you a debt of gratitude.’
His brief, intense gaze spoke his thanks, knowing she understood.
‘Cassien,’ he said, turning to hug his middle son again, ‘our reunion as father and son has been short-lived but heartfelt, child.’ He held Cassien at arm’s length, looking up to the towering figure, who looked back with a deeply sad expression. Florentyna suspected that Cassien was hiding his emotions and likely also understood this was a true goodbye. She had to look away, made herself busy tying on her cloak and moving toward her horse. She heard their words of farewell.
‘You’ve made me proud. You have one more confrontation to face. Think of Cyricus as Loup. He can be bested if your mind remains strong. And you are the one who can rid the empire of his blight. Trust Gabe. Trust Ham. Trust me. Above all, trust yourself and what’s in here,’ he said, touching his son’s chest above his heart.
Florentyna glanced around in time to see Fynch pull Cassien’s face down and kiss him on each cheek, lingering on both.
‘I have loved you from afar and now I’ve had the opportunity to love you up close, Cassien. Thank you for forgiving me my secrets and your isolation.’ He looked over at Romaine. ‘Stick to the forest for as long as possible. She will protect you. Do not roam. Don’t even be tempted. Not yet, or you will give yourself away.’
Again Cassien nodded. He pulled Fynch into a bear hug. ‘I will see you again,’ he said, his voice tight, ‘when this is done.’
‘Shar willing,’ Fynch said. ‘Now go, you two. Be safe.’
As they rode away with heavy hearts, Romaine flanking them, Cassien gave a deep sound of anguish. ‘He’s lying.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Florentyna said, although she didn’t add that she agreed with him.
‘Because he’s dying, your majesty. He was dying when he first showed himself to me. It’s why he collapsed the last time he and I were together. He seemed rejuvenated when he met us at the mouth of the forest, but just in the course of these past hours he has become frail. I don’t think he can leave the forest, I don’t think he should ever have left the Wild.’ He gave a sad laugh. ‘Let’s be honest here. We are talking about someone who is centuries old. It has to be the Wild’s magic that sustains him. When he’s beyond it, maybe it cannot keep him alive.’
‘He can go back, he can —’
‘No. I don’t believe he can,’ Cassien said, thinking it through as they walked the horses away from Fynch. ‘It’s why he’s released Romaine to me. It’s why he told us to leave the forest. He doesn’t want me to suffer his death.’
THIRTY-FOUR
Hamelyn and King Tamas had ridden through the day, preserving their horses as best they could. When Tamas sensed the horses could not carry them further, he paid for a new pair at Tooley Marsh, northwest of the capital.
‘It’s not really a marsh. Hasn’t been one for centuries, ‘specially not since the river dried up,’ the stableman said, as he looked over their horses. ‘Yes, they’ve done enough. I’ll fetch a couple of fresh ones. You can pay Master Flegon over at the inn. It’s where you’ll find him at this time.’
They paid Flegon, whom they’d found gambling in a corner of the inn over a game of racks. He didn’t seem to be winning and Tamas was certain that the coin he was handing over for the horses would go down on the table for the particularly chaotic and probably dishonest game of dice.
‘You’d better check for drops of mercury in those cubes, Master Flegon,’ Tamas warned. ‘Won’t be the first time a man’s lost his fortune over loaded dice.’
Flegon’s opponent glared at Tamas. ‘Which wind blew you in, matey?’ he demanded, casting a glance at Ham. ‘You all right, son, or is he planning to buy a room and give you a thorough going over?’ He laughed cruelly. Tamas cleared his throat, nodded at Ham for them to be on their way. The men’s laughter followed them.
‘Cut some meat from the haunch,’ Tamas ordered a woman working behind the inn’s counter, ‘pack it with bread, some cheese if you have it.’ He looked back at the me
n playing.
‘Could you add some chutney too, please?’ Ham asked politely, with a disarming grin and the young woman smiled at him.
‘Well, someone has good manners,’ she said, cutting Tamas a sharp look.
The king glanced at Ham with an expression of confused innocence. When her back was turned Ham gave a shrug.
‘You can’t treat every stranger like a servant, your majesty,’ he whispered. ‘In here, and dressed the way you are, you’re simply another well-heeled traveller.’
Tamas nodded. ‘Sage advice, Ham.’
The woman had given their order to a younger girl, who scurried back into the kitchen. ‘Anything else?’
‘What is your name?’ Tamas asked.
‘Arly,’ she replied, sounding guarded.
‘Well, Arly, forgive my brusqueness. I just don’t like cheats much.’ He looked over his shoulder toward the men playing dice. ‘We’d like two ales, please, and his should be a small watered one,’ he said, thumbing at Ham, who remained silent.
‘Don’t let him get you drunk, boy!’ the man, clearly still resentful of the king’s warning to Flegon, yelled across the tavern.
Arly sighed. ‘Take no notice of him.’
‘I’m not,’ Tamas said, grinning fiercely. Ham noticed that Arly had warmed quickly to the king’s charm. There was no doubting that women found him attractive. ‘He’s fleecing the stable owner,’ Tamas continued.
She shook her head gently in frustration. ‘Flegon’s been fleeced for years. We’ve watched him lose money so often he’s like a piece of the furniture in here. He doesn’t seem to care … not since his family died of the green fever. All of them, sir. Five healthy sons and a wife he was true to. He’s a broken man, but he was once a good man in the community.’
Tamas sighed. ‘Pity. Here, take a tankard of ale over to him from me.’ He tossed an extra coin onto the counter.
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