The Challenge: Circle of Conspiracy Trilogy (Artesans Series Book 4)

by Cas Peace

  The stablemaster regarded him sourly as he mounted the gelding, eyeing the full packs pointedly. Taran ignored his unsubtle curiosity and rode slowly out of the yard and down the lane. He approached the blocky gatehouse where they had waited to meet Robin on that first fateful day, and couldn’t suppress his emotions as he passed it. The swordsman on guard duty raised the barrier for him, and Taran left the confines of the Manor, not expecting to ever return. He rode despondently away from the only life and people he had ever truly loved.

  *****

  Damn, thought Rienne angrily, she still hadn’t told Taran her news! All this upset had robbed her of the opportunity, as well as the pleasure of seeing his reaction. Someone was going to pay for that.

  Dashing tears from her eyes, she marched into the infirmary. A great anger was boiling inside her. Aware that it was probably her pregnancy intensifying her emotions, she nevertheless made purposely for a certain room. The room where Lieutenant-Major Denny lay, blissfully unaware of the misery he had caused or the storm he had unleashed with his gossip.

  The few healers who saw Rienne stared in concern at her pale face and glaring eyes. She was usually the gentlest of people, although they were all aware of the steel that could rise to the surface when needed. None of them had ever seen her truly angry, though, and they marveled at her furious countenance.

  Reaching Denny’s room, she ignored his smile of greeting as she stalked toward his bed.

  “Get out,” she snapped.

  His smile faded. “What?”

  “Get out of my infirmary. I am no longer willing to treat you. You’ve been on at me for days to let you up. Well, now you’ve got your chance. Go on. You’re not welcome here and I want you out.”

  “But—”

  Her fury boiled over. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since Taran first met you! You’ve been spreading your vicious lies, and now you’ve ruined the lives of three good people, and maybe more! Well, I hope you’re pleased with yourself. Taran is leaving because of you and I’m losing one of the best friends I ever had! I’ll never forgive you for that, and I want you out of my sight.”

  He had the grace to look sheepish. “I only said what I saw and heard—”

  “You twisted what was seen and heard out of all proportion!” she raged. “You don’t deserve it, but I’m going to explain it to you. Yes, Taran’s in love with Sullyan. He has been ever since he first set eyes on her. Everyone knows it and has always known it. He made no secret of it. That’s what he meant when he told you Robin knew about them. But Taran would never do anything to cause either of them pain. He’s the most honorable man I know. Unlike some I could mention!”

  Denny winced. “But what about Lady Jinella seeing him leave Sullyan’s room half-naked in the middle of the night?”

  She nearly screamed. “You took the word of a silly young girl who considered herself slighted and made an issue of it! If Sullyan had heard serious news, she would have called any one of us into her room, no matter what the hour of day or night. And she never worries about modesty. You should know that if you trained with her like you say!”

  Denny reddened and hung his head.

  His contrition only incensed Rienne further. “Oh, don’t bother being ashamed of yourself now,” she cried, “it’s too late! Robin nearly fought with Taran over your malicious rumors, and now Taran has left rather than be the cause of more pain!”

  Denny gave a guilty start.

  “Yes,” she yelled, “he’s gone! I don’t know where he’s going and neither does he. You’ve destroyed the life he’s built here, and you have no idea how precious it was. Not to mention what you’ve done to Robin. What Sullyan will say when she finds out, I can’t guess, but I wouldn’t be you for all the gold in the King’s Treasury! And I won’t harbor you here anymore. You’ve forfeited your right to healing, as far as I’m concerned. Take yourself off and get out of my sight. I don’t ever want to see you again. You can be crippled for life for all I care. It’s no more than you deserve!”

  Rienne was sobbing now and there were concerned faces at the door. The whole infirmary had heard her tirade. No one had ever been thrown out by a healer before, but no one dared come near as Denny slowly and painfully rose from the bed, wrapping a robe about him as best he could, holding his sore arm awkwardly. Rienne watched him with burning eyes.

  “If you care about what you’ve done,” she hissed, “if you want to put things right, then you’ll find Robin as soon as he returns and tell him you were mistaken. I doubt he’ll believe you, but it’s the least you can do. Now get out of my sight before I do something I’ll regret!”

  She collapsed, sobbing, to the rumpled bed while Denny limped painfully out of the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ozella watched Taran leave the stable yard. The young foreigner was hiding, taking comfort in the care of his horse again. He wasn’t ready to face Parren and didn’t want to return to the barracks until he knew for certain where Parren was. He couldn’t ask someone about the Captain’s whereabouts without arousing suspicion, and he didn’t know enough about the Manor’s duty rosters to work it out for himself.

  He knew that Parren reported to Colonel Vassa, and he was aware that one of Vassa’s companies was in the field, but Parren led one company and Lieutenant-Major Baily led the other. Ozella didn’t know which one was out. He hung around the stables, currying his horse and cleaning harness, hoping to hear what he wanted to know before finishing his work or falling foul of Solet. The rumors and the strange mood of the men had soured the stablemaster’s temper even more than usual. He had been prowling around the stable yard, finding fault with his stable lads’ work. Eventually, he came to where Ozella was brushing out Felika’s mane for at least the hundredth time.

  “Are you still here?” he demanded, making Ozella jump. “You must have finished that by now. Leave the poor beast alone, let him rest. Haven’t you anything better to do? Go on, be off with you!”

  Ozella had no choice but to obey, and looked anxiously around for Parren as he emerged onto the yard. There was still no sign of him, so Ozella made his way back to the barracks.

  When he had first arrived at the Manor, he had expected his rooms to be in the main building. He was a Lord, after all. But he was soon disabused of that notion. It was Blaine’s policy not to foster favoritism, and as Ozella would be training with the cadets, the General thought it best if the Beraxian also lived with them. He told Ozella that this arrangement would help him fit in and make friends.

  It hadn’t.

  Ozella slouched morosely along, his eyes on the ground. Because of this, he failed to see the dark shape lounging just around the corner of the barracks wall until it was too late. Parren, grinning, stepped into Ozella’s path.

  “Trying to avoid me, were you?”

  The low, menacing voice made Ozella’s heart falter. His head came up in fright. “Of course not!”

  The lie was plain and Parren studied him, looking pleased with the fear he saw. “I should have thought you’d want to seek me out,” he drawled, “seeing as the safety of your sisters depends on you delivering what I asked for.” He stared meaningfully at Ozella while jingling something his pocket.

  His sisters’ rings! Ozella went white. “Are they all right?” he hissed. “If you’ve hurt them, I’ll—”

  “Yes? You’ll what? Come on, Ozella, I’d be very interested to hear what you’d do.”

  Ozella felt sick, and Parren grinned. “It was a close thing,” he said. “Another half-hour and I would have given an order you might have regretted. You’re only just in time. Provided, that is,” he grabbed Ozella’s shirt, leaning in close so the youth could smell his unsavory breath, “the information you bring me is worth hearing.”

  Ozella swallowed, remembering the strange lassitude that had affected his concentration over the past two days. “I’ll tell you everything I know,” he said hopelessly.

  Parren smiled. “Oh, you will. Indeed you will. Come w
ith me.”

  Feeling sick, trapped, and very alone, Ozella obeyed.

  *****

  Sullyan’s company finished their tour of duty with no further incident. She led them back to the Manor, feeling weary and troubled. Dexter watched her carefully, plainly fearing another fall, but she couldn’t be irritated with him. The pounding in her skull was testament to the trauma she had suffered. She used her powers to draw out the bruise, but the sick pain in her head only intensified. Now she had to report to a healer immediately and be declared either fit or infirm. It was inescapable. Sullyan was duty-bound to submit to Rienne’s examination.

  In truth, she didn’t really mind. The headache alone told her all was not well, and the pain of expending power to deal with it worried her further. Not to mention the shock of finding, yet again, the imprint of her own psyche in the substrate where it had no right to be.

  Leaving Drum in the care of Solet’s stable boys, she made her way to the infirmary. Sullyan always felt more comfortable dealing with Rienne, as they shared a special bond and Sullyan could always sense Rienne’s deep empathy. She headed for the small, comfortable office Rienne occupied when not doing her rounds.

  On entering the room, she immediately caught the flavor of Rienne’s unhappiness, and frowned to see her careworn face.

  “What is it, Rienne?”

  “It can wait,” the healer replied, causing Sullyan to narrow her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

  Allowing Rienne her way, Sullyan explained what had happened. Rienne was alarmed and her professional instincts came immediately into play. She asked Sullyan to sit in the easy chair before her desk and came to stand beside her. Sullyan submitted wordlessly to Rienne’s examination, affording the healer access to her powers in order to assist her.

  After a short while, during which several unexplained expressions crossed Rienne’s face, the healer handed Sullyan some willow extract. “Drink this. It will help with the pain. There’s no permanent damage, I’m glad to say. You were lucky, Brynne. What caused you to fall from Drum, anyway? I can’t recall such a thing ever happening before.”

  “It never has.” Sullyan drank the potion before giving Rienne a brief account of how she had come to be thrown. “I should have been more careful,” she finished.

  Rienne shook her head. “How could you have known? It’s not as if you expected it.”

  “Maybe not, but it seems to be something I must look for in the future.” She shot Rienne a shrewd glance. “Now, are you going to tell me what has upset you?”

  Rienne sighed. “I could never hide anything from you, could I?”

  Sullyan smiled faintly and Rienne went back to her chair. She remained silent for a moment and seemed to be struggling with some internal quandary. Sullyan waited her out, but her patience wouldn’t hold for long. She needed to report to Blaine.

  As if realizing this, Rienne spoke abruptly. “Taran’s gone.”

  Whatever Sullyan had thought might be upsetting Rienne, it wasn’t this. “Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?”

  “He’s left the Manor. He went about two hours ago. I think he’s gone to that inn on the Tolk road. At least, that’s what he said he’d do. As to the why, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him.”

  Sullyan’s eyes narrowed. “I do not have time for this.”

  “I know you don’t. That was one of the reasons he left. He asked me not to tell you, and I can’t go against his wishes any more than I already have. But I had to tell you he’s gone. I didn’t want to take the risk that you might suddenly need him.”

  Sullyan frowned. “Are you saying he has gone for good?” She was finding this hard to take with all her other worries. Damn the man! What was he playing at?

  “He believes he has,” said Rienne. “I can’t say any more, Brynne. He promised to wait at the inn until Cal goes to say goodbye, but where he’ll go after that, I don’t think even he knows.”

  “And you will not tell me his reasons?”

  Rienne closed her eyes. “I can’t. Please don’t ask me.”

  Sullyan rose, an expletive on her lips for the inconsiderate timing of Taran’s departure. But it died unsaid when she saw Rienne’s distress.

  Hands on hips, she said, “I suppose this has to do with the rumors that have been spreading about here lately?”

  Unable to lie, Rienne nodded. Now the expletive did escape and Rienne’s eyes widened. Sullyan was normally so softly spoken and polite that the vicious curses she sometimes gave vent to still took Rienne by surprise.

  Sullyan refused to apologize for her language. “When do you expect Cal back?”

  Faint hope appeared in Rienne’s eyes. “Before the evening meal.”

  Sullyan saw it and smiled. “I will do my best to find time to speak with Taran. But now, I really must report to the General. I thank you for telling me. I understand your loyalty to Taran and I will not press you for details. But I wish he had chosen a more convenient time to let his honor get the better of him!”

  Putting Taran out of her mind, Sullyan made her way to Blaine’s office. She entered without ceremony and found the General and the King occupying the inner room behind the purely functional office, where the seating was more comfortable. The welcome aroma of fellan wafted out, and Blaine indicated a vacant chair as he poured a mugful. She accepted it gratefully and the bitter liquid, aided by Rienne’s potion, began its healing work on the pounding in her skull.

  She made her report, Blaine and Elias listening intently to the details. Blaine narrowed his eyes as she explained about her fall. He already knew she had found her own imprint at the site of Aeyron’s abduction and was as perplexed as she was. Elias was even more so, not being an Artesan.

  “But isn’t that impossible?” he asked. “Isn’t everyone’s pattern unique?”

  “Indeed, Elias,” she said, “although it is possible for them to be similar in structure, especially if you compare the areas relating to the mastery of the various elements. My psyche, for example, would closely match the General’s if you compared the portions relating to the element of Earth. And if you could see my pattern laid out beside Pharikian’s, you would detect startling similarities, as we are the same rank. But they would not be identical.”

  “Then how do you explain it?”

  She shook her head. “I cannot. Not yet. On both occasions the imprint was very faint, and maybe I did not see the whole pattern. Were I to see it fresh and complete, maybe then I could find those subtle differences. They must be there, for it certainly is not mine, that much I can state with certainty! But it has to be a very close match to have had such a strong effect on my power.”

  Neither man had any suggestions. Unless Pharikian could come up with some, this was one mystery she would have to solve on her own. It frightened her, knowing there was an unknown Artesan with powers that matched or perhaps even surpassed her own. Especially as he was either committed to harming his own kind or was being coerced into it.

  They moved on to discussing how they could best counter the increased threat from raiding, for if it continued much longer it would stretch the resources of the Manor and Elias’s other garrisons around the country. He had already received reports of similar problems from three other provinces, although on a lighter scale. Indeed, Elias’s messenger service was also being stretched to its limits, as messages came and went at an alarming rate.

  This was exactly the kind of problem Elias had set up his College to alleviate. If only they had enough trained Artesans right now!

  “I am beginning to wonder,” mused Sullyan, “whether the true purpose of these raids might be to keep us fully occupied and prevent us from looking for Prince Aeyron and his abductors. The timing is suspiciously coincidental.”

  “Perhaps,” Elias agreed. “It would certainly explain why they’re selecting such poor and random targets. But if, as you say, there are rebels among Pharikian’s nobility who oppose his treaty with us, then surely these petty tactics are just what they would
employ to goad us into breaking with him?”

  “I agree,” she said, “but there is no reason why they could not achieve both objectives with the same ploy. And if that is their desire, does it not strengthen the likelihood of there being collaboration between dissidents of both realms? Those who desire Pharikian’s removal and those who are working both against your rule and the legitimization of the Artesan craft would benefit equally from unrest in our lands. How convenient that those best equipped to hunt them have their hands very effectively tied!”

  She gazed openly into Elias’s piercing blue eyes. “Do you not think, your Majesty, that it might now be prudent to detail someone specifically to search for whoever is behind all this? I am convinced that the Prince is being held in Albia, and Pharikian is beside himself with fear. He cannot come and search himself, nor can he send someone to do it for him. As your ambassador, I as good as promised we would do all we could to find his son, and I would not have my word proved false. Such a search would also benefit us, as I am certain that when we find Prince Aeyron we will also find our traitor.”

  Blaine nodded in agreement, but Elias was less than convinced.

  “When you say ‘detail someone,’ I take it you are offering yourself?”

  She inclined her head. “I am yours to command, Elias. I will do as you bid me.”

  He regarded her levelly and she returned his gaze. “No, I can’t spare you. The current situation is too delicate for me to feel comfortable sending you off on what is bound to be a very dangerous mission. Sympathetic as I am to Timar’s pain, have you considered that this abduction might have been staged in order to lure you into their clutches? Whoever ‘they’ are?”

  “I doubt it. I do not think I am their primary target. They have had plenty of opportunity to attack me without resorting to such an elaborate and risky trap. The incident at Port Loxton might have left their intended victim unclear, but they were definitely trying to kill you during the ambush on our journey here. I cannot think that the elimination of just one powerful Artesan is their goal. If it was, why not just kill Aeyron, a Master Artesan, rather than holding him for ransom?