by Cas Peace
The strain was beginning to tell on Robin, and he was thankful when Ky-shan, as rear-guard, finally reached Vanyr’s side. He followed through with Torka, collapsing the tunnel as he went. Once safely on Albian soil he stood breathing deeply, trying to regain some strength. He accepted Vanyr’s congratulatory slap on the back with a feeling of pride. Perhaps he was ready to become Master, after all.
While the Commander and Ky-shan saw to the removal of the blindfolds, Robin sent a questing thought to General Blaine. It was late in the evening, but not too late. The Captain knew Blaine never retired early. His tentative contact was swiftly accepted, but what Blaine had to tell him shocked him to the core. His dismay must have shown on his face. Vanyr was watching him closely, and as soon as Blaine broke the contact, he asked, “What is it, Captain? What’s wrong?”
Robin swore. “We’ve badly underestimated Sonten, that’s what’s wrong. Far from relying on Cal to take him and his men through the Veils last night, or even this morning, he must have sent an advance force into Albia via one of his own Artesans. They could have been here for days, hiding out in the countryside, learning their way around, just waiting for Sonten’s instructions. Once he’d made Taran tell him where the Staff was, he must have relayed the information to this advance force. They pinpointed Taran’s village and surrounded it. He already has the place completely cut off.”
“Triton’s balls!” grunted Ky-shan.
The young Captain continued. “The good news is that Blaine got word of it. One of the villagers managed to get away and rode through the night for help. Two companies from the Manor are already on their way to Hyecombe. The bad news is that the village was taken at night, so all the villagers were in their homes. General Blaine has ordered our forces not to engage Sonten while the villagers are in danger.”
“So Sonten and Cal are already there?” Vanyr’s expression registered his disgust.
“We have to assume so, yes. With Sonten’s advance party in control of the village, they would have directed him straight there. They probably even know which house to search and may already be digging out the Staff. Let’s hope Taran was right about the amount of time it would take to retrieve the thing.”
“Any news of Cal?”
Robin shook his head. “No doubt he’ll be kept closely confined, if he’s even still alive. My guess is that his life depends on whether Sonten knows where the Staff is. I don’t know if Sonten’s Artesans would be able to sense the thing, but even if Cal has held out on him—and if I know Cal, he’ll have tried his damnedest—it won’t take Sonten long to work out where the weapon is. Maybe Cal still has hostage value, and maybe he doesn’t. That will depend on Sonten’s plans for the Staff once he recovers it. If this man Heron is going to take Jaskin’s place, then I’m guessing they’ll need a victim to test the weapon on.”
Vanyr turned pale. Robin tried not to imagine how being stripped of his powers by such a terrible method might feel. Another dreadful possibility occurred to him, and he stared at Vanyr in horror.
“What, Captain?”
Robin’s voice shivered with dread. “Torman, what if Sonten knows Sullyan needs the Staff to survive? He knows what Rykan did to her. He must also know what she did to Rykan in the arena, and why she needed his life force. We all heard Rykan refuse to trade his life for hers, and Sonten must surely have heard her say that some of his power was missing. Oh, gods! Torman, if Sonten is ambitious and confident enough to mount his own challenge on the Hierarch, then he won’t want Sullyan in the way any more than Rykan did. Especially now he knows she would be on Pharikian’s side. He only has to keep us from recovering the Staff to be rid of her!”
Vanyr scowled. “Then we’ll have to make damned sure he doesn’t succeed.”
Ky-shan nodded. “Don’t you worry, Skip, Sonten won’t slip through our fingers this time. He may think he has the upper hand for now, but he doesn’t know we’re coming in force against him. With any luck, we’ll take him by surprise and slaughter the lot of them before they disappear with the Staff.”
“I can’t take any chances with the villagers,” warned Robin, “but apart from that, I agree with you. I’m not going to jeopardize Cal’s life if I can help it, but neither am I going to let Sonten deny Sullyan her chance of survival. Much as I want to leave for Hyecombe right away, I think we ought to call at the Manor tomorrow morning. I can brief General Blaine fully and try to convince him to send more men. Then, if we ride hard, we can make it to the village by nightfall, assess the situation, and rendezvous with the commanders of the units already there. Together, we’ll work out what’s best to do.”
*****
Under low scudding clouds and intermittent rain, Robin led his band into the Manor. The sentries were expecting him, but even so, they looked askance at a group of Andaryans riding openly into their midst. After tactfully asking Solet to see to their comforts, Robin left the pirates at the horse lines, taking only Vanyr and Ky-shan to meet with General Blaine.
Blaine invited them into his office and shook hands gravely with both the tall Commander and the stocky seaman. Appreciating the irony of the situation, Vanyr and Ky-shan remained silent while Robin swiftly briefed the General. When he was done, Blaine sat back, his face impassive.
“You say this … artifact is vital to the Major’s survival?”
“Yes, sir,” said Robin.
“And if she can make use of it, she will be able to return and resume her life?”
“Presumably, sir.”
Robin was unable to read Blaine’s expression, but for once he was not rattled by it. The General seemed to be taking him seriously and treating the matter with the gravity it deserved. After his unprecedented display of emotion on taking his leave of Sullyan at Marik’s mansion, much of Robin’s dislike and mistrust of the man had vanished. His previous unflattering opinions had undergone a radical turn-around. Blaine had finally let his guard down, and Robin could understand why he acted as he did.
The General regarded him, eyes hard. “You’re certain there’s no other way for Sullyan to return? You’re saying that if we don’t recover this artifact, this Staff, we’ll be as good as signing her death warrant?”
Robin’s heart lurched at Blaine’s blunt phrasing. “That’s about it, sir.”
“Very well. Captain, take the Major’s company to Hyecombe. Sergeant Dexter has been leading them well enough, but I know he’ll appreciate your return. I authorize you to do whatever you can to relieve the village and recover the Staff. Protect the villagers as best you can, but use all your resources to regain that artifact. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir.” Robin snapped a smart salute. “I’ll succeed, sir. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t doubt it, Captain,” said the General, slapping Robin on the shoulder. The young man was astonished. Never before had Blaine shown such trust in him.
He still couldn’t believe it as he led Vanyr and Ky-shan swiftly back, past the Major’s office door, which he tried hard not to look at, and out toward the barracks. His heart racing at the thought of positive action, he yelled for Dexter to ready the Major’s company.
*****
Escorted by Anjer’s men and accompanied by the Lord General himself as an indication of her status, Sullyan arrived back at the Citadel by noon. Riding into the lower town, her party received the acclaim of the sentries and members of the Velletian Guard. Pharikian’s people had not yet had the opportunity to honor the Champion of the Crown and were eager for festivities to celebrate Sullyan’s achievement. As they rode along the Processional Way, Anjer told her that Pharikian would be organizing some kind of formality to mark the victory. Sullyan, however, only had thoughts for Rienne, and worries for Robin and Cal.
She dismounted in the palace courtyard, pleased to see that some of Anjer’s men were assisting Taran and Bull. Both men looked about with interest as grooms led away their horses. A slim, dark-haired figure came running into the courtyard and threw herself into Taran’s arms. Ri
enne was sobbing wildly, and the startled Adept held her as tightly as his bruised flesh would allow, murmuring words of encouragement and comfort.
Sullyan went over to add her own reassurance. “Cal will come back safe, Rienne, Robin will see to that. Sonten needs him too badly to harm him overmuch. Cal is not without defenses. He will be alright, I promise you.”
Rienne pushed herself out of Taran’s embrace. “How can you say that?” she snapped. “Look at Taran! Just look what’s happened to him! Why couldn’t you have got Cal away safely, too? Why did you leave him behind?”
Sobbing inconsolably, she turned and fled back into the palace. Sullyan watched her go, tears in her eyes.
Taran came close and put his arm around her thin shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “she didn’t mean it. She’s just upset. I understand how she feels. I want to rage at someone too because of my fear for Cal. She’ll be better once she’s let it out. I’ll go after her. Maybe I can calm her down.”
“If there is anything I can do, Taran, please call me,” said Sullyan sadly, watching as he limped stiffly after Rienne.
He was right. The truth was that she was feeling guilty about what had happened to Cal, and she was undeniably responsible for his being caught up in her problems. She had known of her friends’ presence in Andaryon before the duel with Rykan. She really should have sent a patrol out to guide them into the Citadel. She had not, and now she was helpless to do anything to aid Cal and must leave others to do her fighting for her. It was not a situation she was used to, and it galled her.
Another figure emerged into the courtyard, interrupting her thoughts. He was walking slowly and carefully with a stick to aid him. Seeing him gladdened her heart after Rienne’s distress. She walked toward the Count and accepted his outstretched hand with a smile. He pulled her gently to him and planted a kiss on her lips. She felt herself flush and he laughed.
Bull walked past them and gave Marik a teasing glare. “You sly dog! You wouldn’t dare do that if Robin were here.”
Marik grinned.
Sullyan stood back to look at him. It was two weeks since he had been so gravely injured, and Deshan’s healing, along with Idrimar’s careful nursing, had brought him along nicely. His arm was no longer in a sling, but she could tell by the way he carried it that the shoulder was still tender. The wound in his back was clearly healing well, and the nerves and muscles were only stiff due to lack of use.
“How do you feel, Ty?”
“I am well enough, Brynne,” he assured her. “I have only to get my strength back, and it’s coming slowly. Idri still wants to keep me wrapped in blankets like a baby, and I suppose I shouldn’t blame her. But I’m getting bored, and I’m afraid I’ll get fat on what she insists on feeding me. I’d give much to get back on the training ground and start working again.”
“Not too soon,” she cautioned. “That shoulder needs to strengthen before you tax it overmuch. Listen to the Princess. Let her pamper you for a while. You might as well enjoy it while you can.”
He smiled, his eyes glittering. “Oh, I am, Brynne. Believe me, I am.”
She smiled at his smugness. “Well, I hope you are both being careful. You are not married yet, you know.”
He feigned a hurt expression. “I may not have much power, but I know enough not to let her get pregnant. I can at least get that right.”
“I hope so. I can just imagine what Pharikian would say—not to mention her brother—if she went to her wedding swelling with child. I have heard that the Heir is a stickler for protocol and correctness, and he is apparently very protective of his sister. If he was to hear of your premarital … arrangements, it might prejudice him against you.”
Marik’s pale eyes widened. “Do you think so?”
“Definitely.”
He stared at her a moment before breaking into a grin. “Damn you, Brynne Sullyan. I never know when you’re being serious. When will I learn to stop falling for your innocent face and barbed comments?”
“When you are in your grave!”
She laughed, their easy banter lightening her soul. Taking his arm, she steered him slowly after the others.
Chapter Seven
Robin wasted little time marshaling the Major’s company. Once Sergeant Dexter understood the seriousness of the situation, he swiftly alerted the men. They greeted Robin warmly and gathered around him as he entered the barracks, clamoring for news of Sullyan. The Andaryans trailed Robin nervously, uncertain of their reception, yet once Robin had explained their relationship with Sullyan and what they had done for her, they were accepted without rancor.
Vanyr was amazed and turned to murmur to Ky-shan beside him. “I’ve never seen anything like this. These men are treating their Captain more like a friend. The love they bear both him and the Major is obvious. I try to be a fair and firm commander, and all my men respect me, but this goes far beyond anything I’ve experienced. These Albian swordsmen sound more like a family than a company of fighting men.”
Ky-shan grinned. “I’m sure the Skip will explain it to you if you ask him. For me, all I care about is how quickly they obey his orders.”
Robin’s orders were obeyed swiftly enough to satisfy the most critical of commanders. His briefing over, the men ran for their horses, mounting and forming up behind Robin with the seamen absorbed into their ranks. Robin moved them out and rode at their head, Vanyr and Ky-shan just behind him.
Once they were underway, Dexter nudged his horse up close to Robin’s. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “How is the Major, Captain? What are her chances of returning to us?”
Robin glanced at him. He had not been completely candid in his briefing, and the quick-witted Dexter had realized there was more to be told. His clear concern entitled him to the truth.
“That’s partly up to us, Dex. The artifact Sonten is so desperate to get hold of is actually the key to her survival. If we want her back, we have to stop it falling into his hands. But he’s still holding Cal hostage, as far as we know, and Sullyan will kill me if anything happens to him. Our two objectives are Cal and the Staff, but Cal takes priority. We also have to think about the safety of the villagers. We can’t allow Sonten to hold them to ransom or do them any harm. If necessary, we’ll let him take the Staff and run him down later. Those are her orders, backed up by the General. This time, I intend to obey them.”
Dexter nodded. “Understood, Captain. But if the demon does take the Staff, let me and the boys hunt him down. It’s the least we can do. They’ve been fretting about her all the time she’s been gone. They need to do something to help.”
Robin smiled grimly. “They’ll get their chance, Dex, don’t worry. They’ll get their chance.”
Robin was both pleased and proud that his men had taken little convincing to accept the Andaryans. He could hear snatches of conversation in the ranks of horsemen behind him, coupled with good-natured banter as the seamen told how they had helped Sullyan win her place in the Hierarch’s forces. Their instant camaraderie took care of one of his main concerns. His one remaining fear revolved around Vanyr and Ky-shan. The pirate leader might have set aside his dislike of Vanyr for the moment, but it would only take one word from him, one hint of what Vanyr had done to Sullyan at the Hierarch’s palace, to reach the ears of Robin’s men, and the tall Commander might never see his homeland again. The Captain could only hope that their mission would keep them occupied, and that Ky-shan wouldn’t let anything slip.
They arrived at the outskirts of Hyecombe just after nightfall. Using his intimate knowledge of the terrain, Robin had taken them cross-country, saving precious hours. When they were close enough, he slowed them and sent a couple of outriders ahead to contact the sentries of the other two units. On receiving their report, he led his men into the encampment to confer with the other two captains.
An outlying hay barn was doing duty as a makeshift command post. As he strode inside, Vanyr, Ky-shan, Almid, and Kester at his back, Robin immediately gained the attentio
n of the two men waiting for him. He was ready, having been forewarned by General Blaine that one of the captains was Parren. The young man had been harshly disciplined by Colonel Vassa and stripped of privileges for weeks after their duel, but Robin knew that Parren was too good a field officer to lose. Vassa had decided not to transfer him, as he had threatened, but to give him a second chance. The other two men involved, Parren’s corporal and sergeant, were summarily dismissed from the King’s service, and the corporal was imprisoned for his attempted rape of Rienne, but Parren had gradually insinuated himself back into Vassa’s good books.
Now he regarded Robin with barely concealed dislike. He had probably, thought Robin, convinced himself that neither his rival nor Sullyan would return from Andaryon, so this development would only embitter him further. Robin could sense that Vanyr had picked up Parren’s aura of hatred, and he hoped the Commander wouldn’t make trouble. This would be delicate enough without tempers getting frayed.
Parren, the purple line of his scar showing starkly against his pale cheek, feigned disinterest. He lounged indolently against the barn wall, his hands thrust through his sword belt. The other captain, who was also under Vassa’s command, was a small, agile man called Baily, and he willingly briefed Robin on the current situation. Robin tried hard to concentrate on Baily’s words, but all the time he could feel Parren’s eyes scraping his back.
Trying to ignore it, he asked, “How are Sonten’s men deployed?”
Baily brought both hands together. “In a cordon round the whole village. The area’s sewn up tighter than a whore’s purse. They had too much time to entrench before we got here.”
