Flare closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for the elf. They had never been close, but he had still been a comrade. Whether he meant to or not, Enstorion had given his life helping Flare to restore the Dragon Order.
Derek and Trestus regarded the elf’s corpse. “The fireball?” Trestus asked.
Mikela nodded. “He pushed me out of the way.” She hesitated, and it was obvious she was trying not to cry. “I want that woman dead,” she said finally. “I don’t care how we manage it.”
The voices were growing louder, and they knew it wouldn’t be long before the guards were inside the abbey.
Flare moved over and stood next to the hole in the temple’s wall. He looked at the demons he had summoned. As he had expected, they had defeated those of Zalustus. “Return to your world,” he said simply and turned away, trusting that he would be obeyed.
Flare focused his attention on the hole and let his eyes go unfocused. He directed his will to summon a spot where they had been roughly a week ago. He felt the rolling vibration, and the interior of the temple disappeared and was replaced by the sight of several pine trees. It was where they had made camp the first night on the Western Road. “Hurry,” he said, motioning them through the portal.
Keenan and Kara both paused, looking at the portal, but at Flare’s urging they stepped through.
They made a small camp, mostly in silence. The double loss of Enstorion and Ocklamoor weighed on them all. The silence stretched on for a while, until it was finally broken by Kara.
“Flare,” she called, standing up and moving closer. “I have a few questions.” Flare only nodded, and she continued. “Zalustus said that Keenan was his betrayer and he knew who your betrayer was as well. What did he mean?”
Flare sighed. He was immensely relieved that Kara was accepting of him. He had been afraid that no explanations would convince her, but as it turned out, Zalustus had done the convincing for him. The others moved in closer to hear the conversation. Some of them sat on the ground, while others stood in a small semi-circle.
The question about his betrayer was — touchy. He wasn’t sure how to answer it, so he just came right out with the truth. “It was Phillip.” Several of the Guardians gasped, but he continued. “I believe he felt he was doing what his church demanded of him, but he tried to kill me when I claimed Ossendar.”
“And his death?” Kara asked, prodding.
“We fought,” Flare answered, fidgeting under their gaze. “I beat him, and he was holding onto the cliff edge. I tried to pull him up, but when he took my hand, he tried to pull us both over the edge. So,” he hesitated briefly, “I saved myself.”
No one spoke for a bit, until finally Heather broke the silence. “Do you think Zalustus was telling the truth? Do you think Golteranth’s armies are marching north?”
Flare considered and then nodded his head. “I do. He means to end this before I can finish my training.”
“How is that being accomplished?” Kara asked.
Flare hesitated, still feeling like he wasn’t supposed to talk about it. In truth, it didn’t much matter anymore, Zalustus had seen to that. After a brief pause, he told them all about the trips to Sha’al, the meetings with the spirits of ancient masters long dead, and the increasing frequency of the trips.
When he was done, no one spoke. Silence engulfed the group for a while, each person lost in his or her own thoughts.
This time it was Derek who broke the silence. “So what’s the plan now?”
Flare sighed, relieved that someone else had brought up the question. He had been dwelling on it since they had arrived here, but he didn’t want to be the one to start this conversation. “Any of you want to leave?” he asked.
They looked confused and Heather asked, “What do you mean leave?”
“I think he’s asking if we are still with him,” Kara said before Flare could speak. “I don’t know about the others, but I am.”
Surprised but pleased, Flare nodded at the priestess. He had feared she would never accept him, but she had stood up with him first. He shook his head at the wonder of it all. One by one, the others quickly nodded their ascent.
“Do you have a plan?” Trestus asked.
“I want Derek to take a group to the dwarves,” Flare began slowly. Confusion showed in the other’s faces and he hurried on. “I need the dwarven king to know that the war is about to be joined,” he glanced at Belgil, “and he needs to know that Ocklamoor is in the hands of Golteranth.”
Belgil didn’t say anything, but his jaws clenched and unclenched several times.
“And the rest of us?” Heather asked.
“I want you to join the others in Telur. They have to be told what is about to happen. If my father is still being stubborn, then drastic measures will have to be taken.” Heather’s eyebrows rose in confusion at his words, but she didn’t ask questions.
“And you?” Keenan asked. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going home,” Flare answered after a moment.
Keenan scowled in confusion. “If you’re going to Telur, then why does Heather have to go?”
Flare shook his head, “You misunderstand. Telur is not my home. I’m going home to Solistine. The elves need to be told what’s about to happen as well.”
“So who goes with who?” Kara asked.
Flare looked around. “Heather, Mikela, Enton, Kara, Leela, and Trestus should go to Telur. The rest of you go to the dwarves.”
“No,” Kara and Keenan said in unison.
Flare blinked at the heat in their words.
“If Derek’s going to the dwarves,” Kara said slowly, “then so am I.”
The light was starting to fail, but the blush working its way up her cheeks was unmistakable. Nevertheless, Flare pretended not to see it. After a moment, he nodded his head. “As you wish.” He glanced in Keenan’s direction. “And you? Do you want to go to Telur so badly?”
Keenan shook his head leaving the others confused. “No.” He pushed himself to his feet and stepped over in front of Flare. Slowly he sunk to one knee. “My life and the lives of my people are now dependant on you. Until this is over, I will not leave your side . . .” he paused, and then quickly added, “I swear my fealty to you and the fealty of my people.”
Dumbstruck, Flare only nodded.
Chapter 23
It was just after sundown when Prince Aldon entered the estate of Countess Hannah Lells. His journey from the main gates to the front door was short, and he walked along the cobblestone path completely oblivious to his surroundings. In truth, Aldon had made this same journey on numerous occasions, and normally his thoughts were always on the pleasures that waited for him in the luxury of the countess’s bedroom, but not tonight. Tonight his thoughts were on the long and rather dreary day he had spent traveling back and forth across the city. His father’s errands had taken all day and proved rather tedious. Lord Briarhill’s man had not been in the city, and King Darion had sent him to the houses of three different nobles. In the end, he had returned to the castle with a rather unpleasant man accompanying him. He had quickly turned the unpleasant man over to Jared, the king’s spymaster, and then, at long last, turned his steps here. He was arriving later than expected, but at least he was here.
The doors were opened by one of the young men who worked in the countess’s household. Like all of the men that Hannah employed, the young man was rather attractive. Aldon frequently wondered about Hannah’s intentions for hiring such young men, but he really didn’t care. He had no claim on her, and he honestly didn’t want her to have any such claim on him. He enjoyed her company and he would miss her when she was gone, but not enough to make her his wife. Honestly, he doubted she would accept any offer of marriage. She enjoyed being in control of her life, and he believed she resisted marriage since it would limit some of her freedom.
“Oh, I was beginning to wonder if you were coming tonight!” Hannah said from just behind the young man.
Aldon started in s
urprise. Never before had Hannah met him at the door. But, then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he had shown up late.
There was something else, though. For the briefest of moments, he was sure he had seen something play across her face — fear, relief, or some combination of the two.
“What kept you?” Hannah asked. Her face no longer showed any fear or anxiety. She completely ignored the young man who still held the door open.
Still troubled by Hannah’s reaction, Aldon did exactly as he had been taught to do — he hid his fear and smiled. “My lady,” he said, and kissed the back of her hand gently.
“So formal, are we?” Hannah asked. She looked pleased.
“I must beg your forgiveness,” Aldon continued. “My tardiness is inexcusable, but it was also unavoidable.”
Hannah stepped close and took Aldon by the arm. “Of course all is forgiven. I could never remain angry with you.”
Aldon smiled at her words, but he knew they weren’t true. He had heard stories of the great lengths she had gone to punish a former lover. For the first time he wondered if she would try to punish him when their relationship ended. He had never taken the idea seriously before, but now it gave him pause. He was a prince of the realm, so he assumed any move she made against him would be anonymous, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try something.
“Come,” Hannah said cheerfully, pulling him by the arm.
Hannah led Aldon from the entry foyer through a smaller greeting room, past a large ballroom, and into a smaller dining room. This wasn’t the estate’s formal dining room, but that room had a cold, cavernous feel to it. This room was more private and much smaller. It was no more than twenty feet square with a small, rectangular table in the middle. Four chairs were pulled up under the table, and another two sat against the walls. The walls were covered in a rough, golden-colored wood, and a large plant sat in each of the four corners.
Aldon was intimately familiar with this room; this was the very room where he and Hannah ate dinner every night. It was not elegant, but it was rather cozy.
The table was already set for two and covered with patters and bowls. The food was steaming hot.
Waving his hand at the steaming food, Aldon asked, “How is it that the food is hot?”
Hannah smiled. “When you were late, I had the food returned to the ovens. It was kept warm, but I’m afraid it may have dried things out a bit.”
“Once again, I must apologize for my tardiness,” Aldon said.
Still smiling, Hannah disengaged her arm from his and moved to her seat. “Think no more of it,” she said. “I had the cooks prepare several gravies as well.”
Aldon nodded and held the chair for the countess to sit.
Dinner passed pleasantly, and it didn’t take long for Aldon to realize just how hungry the day’s events had made him. The extra time the food had spent warming in the ovens did not deter him in any way from second helpings. He briefly considered a small, third helping, but passed. He wanted to save a bit of his appetite for the desserts that Hannah’s cooks had prepared.
Living in the castle, Aldon had grown up with a wonderful assortment of desserts and pastries. The king’s cooks and chefs were some of the best, but Hannah had found a cook that was able to rival the best the king could manage.
Aldon took another drink from his wineglass. For some reason, it even seemed like the wine tasted better here. He felt the familiar warmth spreading through his body. The company, food, and wine always had the same affect on him; he tended to get drowsy, aroused, and contented all at the same time.
He looked up and caught Hannah smiling at him. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Hannah replied, still smiling, “it’s just that you haven’t said two words since you sat down.”
“I’m sorry,” Aldon said, meaning every word. He liked the countess and wanted to make her happy. He suddenly realized how rude he had been during the meal, and the realization made him feel awful. Reaching across the table, he took Hannah’s hand in his. “I truly am sorry. I didn’t realize how tired and hungry I had gotten.”
“Oh, and what have you been doing?”
Aldon resisted the sudden urge to tell Hannah everything the king had told him this morning. Strangely, the resisting seemed harder than it should have. He struggled to think of something he could tell her without betraying the confidence of the king. He settled on the story of Danal.
“The king gave me some important tasks today,” he said quietly.
“Oh, such as?”
“Cleaning up my brother’s mess,” Aldon said, trying to suppress a smile.
For the briefest of moments, he would have sworn that a look of excitement passed over Hannah’s face, but then it was gone. “Your brother?” she asked. Even her tone seemed a bit off; she sounded a bit breathless.
Trying hard not to show his suspicions, Aldon nodded. “Yes. Aldon got the young librarian girl pregnant.”
There was no mistaking it this time. A look of extreme disappointment clearly passed over Hannah’s features and then it was gone.
“Father is furious,” Aldon continued quickly. He wanted to keep speaking as he tried to hide the burgeoning suspicion within. “He hates that his first two grandchildren were conceived out of wedlock.” He didn’t need to remind Hannah that his sister Cierra had been quickly married off. While not confirmed by the king, the rumor was that she too, was with child.
Still holding Hannah’s hand, Aldon raised his wineglass to his lips. He took a deep drink and felt the reassuring warmth slide through his middle; it was pure bliss.
Lowering the glass, Aldon blinked several times at Hannah. For some reason his eyes didn’t seem to want to focus; he couldn’t believe that the wine was affecting him that strongly. After a moment, she came into view and he felt that wonderful tingle running down his body. What about her had made his suspicious? He couldn’t remember, and he suddenly found himself not wanting to.
Hannah didn’t speak but instead she lowered her head and kissed his palm. After a brief pause, she began to softly and slowly lick small circles on his hand.
“My, my,” Aldon said after a moment. “Are you planning on skipping dessert?” In the early days of their relationship, they had often skipped dessert and moved straight to the bedroom. That hadn’t happened as much lately, as they had grown more familiar and contented with their relationship. There had even been days, early on, where they had skipped dinner altogether, but that hadn’t happened in some time.
Standing up, Hannah walked around the edge of the table and took Aldon by the hand. He stood at her urging and she led him to the bedroom.
Later that evening, Hannah pushed herself up and rested on her right elbow. Prince Aldon slept soundly now, worn out from the tasks the king had assigned him, and also from the tasks that Hannah had assigned to him. She smiled at the unconscious prince. There had been many better lovers in her life than the prince, but none of them had ever had such power. And while he was not her best lover, he certainly gave it the royal try.
Pushing the sheets aside, Hannah climbed to her feet beside the bed. She was as naked as the day she was born, and she felt the small goose bumps form along her arms and legs, not because she was cold, but because she knew she was being watched.
As Hannah stood, a section of the wall swung outward. The hidden door led to a small chamber that Hannah’s father had used to keep anything illegal — not that their estate had ever been searched. Hannah’s father had believed in being careful.
A man stood in the open doorway. He was in his middle-years, thin, and a bit tired looking. While Hannah was busy studying the man, he was busy studying her, and he wasn’t making eye contact.
Hannah smiled, and calmly walked to the end of her bed, and picked up a robe that lay over a shiny brass table. She took her time in wrapping herself up and tying the small robe belt. The man in the door never took his eyes off her.
Hannah enjoyed the man’s attention and found his l
usting after her exhilarating. When Angaria had first sent the man to her, she had been embarrassed — of all things. She was perfectly comfortable letting people see her naked, but she had never been observed making love. That first night had been most distracting, but she had quickly gotten used to the idea, and to tell the truth, she had even grown to like the idea.
“Well, Irim?” she asked in a quiet voice. She glanced back at the prince, but he did not stir. Now that she was covered, the man looked her in the eyes.
Irim nodded, not a deferential bow, but more a nod of greeting. “He’s telling the truth, but the drugs are becoming even less potent. Even with my sorcery, his usefulness will be gone within a couple of weeks.”
Hannah’s breath caught at that. A couple of weeks! Did that mean her usefulness was also coming to an end? “And then what?” she asked.
Irim shrugged. “If he’s no longer of use, then he becomes a liability. He is already growing suspicious of you.”
As much as she hated to admit it, she believed that the sorcerer was telling the truth. She had caught several looks from the prince tonight that seemed out of place. Her power over the young man was definitely slipping.
She brightened almost immediately, though. Even if she lost the one thing that had made her so valuable, at least her newfound information was of extreme importance.
She nodded toward the sleeping prince. “Watch him. I must go and tell the duke.”
Irim only nodded and stepped back into the hidden room. He pulled the door shut behind him.
Hannah quickly descended the stairs and crossed the sitting room at the bottom. She paused momentarily outside the door of the library. Her heart was pounding, both in hope and fear. Her news might be enough to win her the permanent favor of the church, at least, that was her hope.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed to door open and stepped inside the study. It was dark, as usual, and, she suspected the bastard Angaria liked the shadows. It strangely seemed fitting.
Victory and Defeat: Book Five of the Restoration Series Page 22
