“Yes, my lord.”
Andrew shuts the door. “How strange. I just spoke to him yesterday. Everything seemed fine.”
“Have you considered that he may not have killed himself?” Ilvara wonders.
“His door was locked.”
Ilvara shrugs. “Perhaps the murderer thought to lock it before he left.”
Andrew waves a hand. “His laboratory was full of rare items. They would have ransacked the place.”
“Unless that wasn’t their goal.”
“But who could benefit from a dead wizard?”
Ilvara shakes her head. “I don’t know. I suppose he could have done it himself.”
“Though I do think it unlikely,”—Andrew takes her hand gently— “I appreciate your ideas. I’ll tell the guards to look more carefully into it. During this tumultuous time, we should make sure.”
Ilvara smiles. “Exactly,” she says, and kisses him.
Another knock sounds at the door. Andrew opens it.
“Ah, Evelyn. Come in.”
Evelyn enters with a large bag in hand. “I’m here to finalize packing the lady’s belongings.”
“Excellent. I will get out of your way. I’ll see you at the wagon, my dear,” he says to Ilvara.
Ilvara nods to him as he shuts the door. She touches Evelyn’s arm as she passes by with the bag. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. You seem very happy today, my lady,” Evelyn says.
“I’m just pleased to be getting out of the castle again. Also, I’d like to speak with you before we go.”
“Let me get these things out to the wagon, and I will return shortly.”
Ilvara frowns as she leaves. Evelyn has been different the last few weeks. Very closed off. Secretive. Solemn. She hopes that Evelyn has stopped viewing Andrew as an obstacle and Esterden as her prison. Then again, Ilvara hasn’t exactly been open about her own life. She hasn’t told Evelyn about the baby, or about siding with Tarreth to defeat the bandits and split the holds. She’s wanted to, desperately, but telling her of their plans could be dangerous. What if Evelyn told Caius, and he accidentally let it slip to one of the bandits? What if Goldie found out? Or Sylvia? All their lives could be in danger.
She’s decided that sometimes the hardest decisions may just be the right ones.
✽ ✽ ✽
Evelyn shoves bags into the back of the wagon. Caius’ voice behind makes her jump.
“Everything is ready?” he asks.
“I think his will is in his bedside table. I’ll grab it when I go back inside. Ilvara needed to speak with me about something.”
Caius nods. “All right. Let her give you whatever instructions. Take the rest of her bags out after her. Grab the will with it. Later, I need to speak with you as well.”
Evelyn returns to the bedchamber. Ilvara is there, packing away a book of poetry in her back-satchel.
“There you are,” Ilvara says.
“What instructions do I need, my lady?” Evelyn asks, standing in front of her.
Ilvara tilts her head. “Why are you so formal? Come sit here with me.” She pats the spot on the bed next to her.
Evelyn eyes the bedside table as she sits down. “Lord Krassis will be waiting.”
“Lord Krassis will be fine. Just sit still for a moment. I need to tell you something.”
“All right.”
“Well, it’s like this. You know how Hadrian and I never had children?”
“Yes.”
“I always thought it was my issue. I thought I could not bear children. But…I suppose things have changed.”
“What do you mean?”
Ilvara straightens her skirt. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re what?” Evelyn shouts, springing to her feet.
“I’m going to have a baby.”
“How could you—I mean… How could you be pregnant? I thought you couldn’t have children.”
“That’s what I just said. I suppose it was Hadrian who could not have children.”
Evelyn’s mind runs through Ilvara’s behaviour the past few weeks. “I can’t believe this.”
“Are you angry?”
“I’m… I don’t know. I think so.” Evelyn grabs her head. This confuses everything. Ilvara is going to give birth to Krassis’ heir.
“But this is wonderful, Evelyn. I’m going to have a child. It’s a miracle.”
“But look at how it interferes with our plan.” Evelyn drops her voice to a whisper. “Would Krassis leave anything to you if he had a son?”
Ilvara lowers her face. “I don’t know. Are you still contemplating killing him? I thought we dropped that weeks ago.”
Evelyn falls to her knees in front of her. She grips her hands, trying desperately to squeeze some sense into her. “Mama, please listen to me. Focus on the goal. We need to get back home. We need to get the bandits out of Ardellon.”
Ilvara is shaking her head. Shutting her eyes.
Evelyn reaches up and seizes her chin. “Mama, listen. Look at me.”
“No. I don’t want you to kill him. I don’t want to go back to Lockmire.”
Evelyn stares at her. “What?”
Ilvara grips her hand with startling strength. “I don’t want to go back. Andrew and I have a plan. Just trust me, all right?”
“Is the final goal to get back home?”
When Ilvara touches her face, Evelyn flinches back. Ilvara clenches her fist. Her voice is hard. “This is my home.”
Evelyn stands stiffly, glaring at Ilvara. She swallows hard. Stomps to the door without turning around. “You’ve lost sight of everything.”
“You are entranced by these ideas of yours. You don’t have the mind to grow.”
Evelyn whips around. “I have some sense of loyalty.”
Ilvara leaps to her feet. “How dare you?”
“You want those bandits ripping up your castle? Tearing through your streets? Slaughtering your people?”
“They won’t just kill the citizens. Lockmire is nothing without its people.”
“See? You still care about them.”
“Of course I care about them. But this is where we are. I’m married to Andrew. I am pregnant with his child. We need to move forward, not cling to the past. I thought you’d be happy for me. This is something I’ve wanted my entire life.”
Evelyn tightens her fists in front of her face. “I am happy for you. But Lockmire is our city. It’s being controlled by the same monsters who tortured me.” Evelyn’s shoulders heave from her laboured breaths. “I thought that was important to you.”
“We’ll get the bandits out of Lockmire. We’ll restore peace. But I am not returning there. I want to stay here with Andrew and my baby.”
“What about Sylvia?”
Ilvara hesitates. “How do you—”
“I’ve heard the rumours. There’s a bandit you betrayed who is seeking out your life. I thought it was idle gossip until Krassis doubled your protection. He has guards around you constantly. Around all of us. Even Caius, although he still has to work in the gardens like a common labourer when he’s the one with the skills to protect you.”
“I wanted—”
“I wish I would have heard it from you, but there has been this tension between us, so tangible that even I notice it.” Evelyn gives one humourless laugh. “You’re going to stay right where it’s most dangerous.”
“Andrew is taking care of it. I’ll find refuge in Tarreth, they’ll go to battle, and all of the bandits will die.”
“So you’re going to kill Sylvia.”
“What do you want from me?” Ilvara shrieks, her voice ringing in the room. “You have been moping around this castle for weeks, focused solely on your own plans and agendas as if you are the Lady of Esterden yourself. You want the power with none of the responsibility. Not everything must go the way you believe it should. Your will is not the final authority. And you can’t do any of it by yourself. What did you do for Lockmire?”
&n
bsp; Evelyn fights the tears burning in her eyes. “I did my best to protect it. I gave my life for it.”
“You aren’t a martyr, Evelyn. And you didn’t join the army on my behalf. You enjoyed fighting back because you’d never been able to do it before. Really, doesn’t it seem like you did it for yourself?”
Evelyn clutches her chest as if an arrow struck her heart. “When I had nothing, you were the one person who always believed in my fighting spirit. Now, you curse me for it.” She reaches under the neckline of her dress and rips off her ivory pendant, the symbol of Arx and Robur Ilvara gave her four months ago. “I died for you once already,” she says, staring down at it. “My debt is paid.”
She tosses the pendant onto the bed and walks to the door.
“Fine. I’ll give it to another servant.”
Evelyn slams the door behind her.
Chapter 33
Crescent Moon Cave
Evelyn rips out the strap tying her hair back and shakes out her golden waves. On her walk toward the castle door, she tries to compose herself, but the sobs slip out. Her chest contracts. She wishes for a room to herself so she can break a chair or rip down a painting like before. But she must contain this. She must.
Caius looks up when she exits the castle. His eyes flicker over her hair and face, and he approaches in a moment. He knocks a stable boy into the horse he was brushing down but doesn’t even acknowledge him.
He meets her under one of the stone archways by the castle. “What’s going on? What did she tell you?”
Her eyes spin up to his face. “She’s pregnant. And I think they’re joining sides with Tarreth to kill the bandits. But she isn’t returning to Lockmire. She wants to stay here with Krassis.”
“Gods. Did you take the will?”
She shakes her head and says nothing.
“I didn’t think it would be there anyway. He’s a lord, after all. Why would his will be sitting in his bedside table, for anyone to take?”
Evelyn looks away, raking her fingernails against her arms. He doesn’t see how terrible it all is.
Caius draws her face back to his with a gentle hand. “At least they’re siding with Tarreth. That means the bandits will die. They’ll probably split the holds and resources. If Tarreth gets Lockmire, it’ll supply a good garrison and leadership.”
“What if Esterden moves its people south to Lockmire?” Evelyn blinks rapidly. “Esterden will be in control of Lockmire.”
“Then we should just pray Tarreth takes control of it.”
Evelyn shakes her head. “But Ilvara will still stay here. She belongs in Lockmire.”
“Things cannot return to exactly the way they were, Evelyn,” he says delicately. “Hadrian is dead; Ilvara is married to Krassis and will bear his child. If she wants to remain here, you must let her.”
Tears flood her eyes. Caius reaches down to brush them away. His eyes look more shadowed than usual.
A guard shoves them apart. “Step back.”
Caius glares at him, then glances around. Evelyn can feel it too. There’s a rumble of uneasiness in all the servants. Some of them, she notices now, are missing. A heavy blanket of tension lays over the group.
“We should finish packing the cart,” Caius says.
Evelyn reads his veiled expression. “Yes.”
As Evelyn arranges the final items, she wonders if anyone heard their conversation. Esterden siding with Tarreth would mean the bandits would be betrayed. It is no surprise why they didn’t know of this sooner. If word leaked, the bandits would double back with full force.
Ilvara and Krassis exit the castle and walk together toward the cart. Evelyn glances at the sky instead of Ilvara’s pink, tear-stained face. She waits until they seat themselves, then pulls herself up to sit next to Ilvara. Evelyn folds her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
Caius takes his spot next to Lord Krassis on the other side. With four additional guards on horses behind and four in front, they set off into the forest.
Krassis orders men to guard the walls and stay alert. His own personal courier jumps onto the back of the wagon right when Krassis tells Nathan he will send word when they reach Tarreth. Lastly, he tells them about funeral plans for Lucius Trent. Evelyn furrows her brows. Leo’s father is dead?
Evelyn watches the commander as they drive by. Caius told her he had not seen any familiar bandits lately. They haven’t even seen her mother, not for weeks. He said he hoped it was just an influx of new recruits and not something more sinister. But she feels she can’t trust anything anymore.
The forest wraps around the party like a garment. There’s a heavy dampness in the air and dark clouds on the horizon. Another storm coming, probably. The weather during Calor has been only that—repeated bouts of humid air followed by lightning storms and torrential rain. It’s good for the ground, but the thunder scares her.
It seems Ilvara and Krassis are on the same side now. Caius is the last friend she has. But she’s so tired of having to speak coded messages, having to steal just a few moments with him, having to stay away. They’ll soon approach the area she hid with him for all those weeks. She took for granted having him to herself day after day, being able to spend all the time she wanted with him.
“What’s that?” Caius calls out, pointing to a glistening spot of silver up ahead. “Driver, halt.” Caius leaps from the cart. He holds his hand to the other guards. “It could be a trap. We should check it out.” He eyes Evelyn.
Evelyn slides off the wagon. “Of course.”
“Wait,” says Krassis. “How do we know you’re not tricking us?”
“Please, my lord,” Caius says. “If we had reason to harm you, we would have already, don’t you think? Come, Evelyn. Let’s see what this is.”
“Let them,” Ilvara says quietly.
Evelyn follows him toward the silver thing ahead, where they find the figure they made weeks ago, still armoured and standing. The silver does not gleam like it did that first day.
“What are we doing?” Evelyn asks quietly, staring at the figure.
“I saw something move.”
“Maybe it was just this.” Evelyn picks up the helmet to examine.
Caius rushes forward, peering behind a bush. “Ahh… There you are.”
Asher rises from it. “I hoped you’d seen me.”
“Asher?” Evelyn drops the helmet again. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured your party would be coming this way.”
Caius glances in the direction of the wagon, then back at Evelyn and Asher. “Follow me.”
He picks up the figure of armour and brings it toward the mountainside. The three of them crawl inside the cave opening at Caius’ direction. He pushes Asher and Evelyn in first, then pulls a rock near the door before slipping inside and closing the opening.
Silence turns to a flurry of uncertainty outside. Guards shout questions as they wander in search. Someone asks if they were kidnapped. They argue about the lack of pursuers or enemies. Krassis, at long last, orders them back to the wagon to resume their journey, cursing Evelyn and Caius for deserting them.
Asher chuckles under his breath. “So this is where you were hiding that time I was here looking for you. I’ve been looking for it for ages.”
“Crescent Moon Cave,” Evelyn says, looking around. She missed this place. “How long have you been waiting for us?”
“Two days or so. It made more sense to try and meet up than to sneak into Esterden.”
Caius sets the armoured figure in the corner. “Why would you want to sneak into Esterden?”
“I was tired of waiting around. Meeves isn’t moving the troops fast enough. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“And waiting out here for two days wasn’t waiting around?”
Asher shrugs. “I guess I needed some time alone.”
“That was quite the risk,” says Caius. “Standing out there while we drove by.”
Evelyn nods. “Good thing Caius saw you
. I didn’t want to be with them a moment longer anyway.”
“What’s going on?” Asher wonders. “Why are we letting Ilvara go along with them?”
Caius explains what they know now, about Ilvara’s pregnancy and desire to stay, about Esterden and Tarreth joining forces against the bandits. He also mentions Evelyn’s own worry that the servants may have heard them speaking of it.
“But that’s good news, isn’t it?” Asher says. “If Esterden surrenders their alliance with the bandits, at least Lockmire won’t be ruled by men with no morals.”
Evelyn drops her eyes. Caius goes on, “Ilvara isn’t going to rule Lockmire, and that is a sorry thing.”
“But if Tarreth decides things, Lockmire will be taken care of. It won’t be in the hands of bandits, at least.”
“But not by Ilvara,” Evelyn says, rising from her crouched position.
“Evelyn, you focus too much on how things were,” Caius says. “You must accept that the past isn’t attainable anymore. We can only do the best with what we have.”
“You sound just like her,” Evelyn says. “Open up the door. I need to go for a walk.”
“It’s dangerous out there,” Asher says. “You can’t go out by yourself. What if they left men behind to look for us?”
Caius, nevertheless, pushes aside the rock. “Be careful,” he tells her.
Without a word, she crawls out. Has everyone lost sight of what’s important? What is happening?
Ilvara belongs in Lockmire. Evelyn belongs there, too, in the army, fighting under Caius and Asher. That’s how it’s meant to be. It is quite simple. Why then is everyone suddenly distracted?
She finds herself wandering across areas she knows well. Her mind drifts from the situation, recalling things from her time here with Caius. Roasting squirrels over the firepit, sleeping in the trees. It was just a resting period between more serious tasks, but those are some of her loveliest memories. It makes her sad to think that’s all they are. Memories.
The helmet lays half-concealed by a bush. Caius must have kicked it under there in his haste to hide them. She wonders if the guards noticed it. She kneels to pick it up. The back is still shiny enough to reflect her face. She rubs a thumb across her reflection’s sleep-bruised eyes. It’s surprising these pieces weren’t stolen by the numerous people travelling this forest.
Of Embers Page 31
