EXILE'S RETURN

by Kate Jacoby

  “A letter, Sire, from Blair to one of his neighbours. They have already set up garrisons around Dunwyn and further afield. By the summer they will cordon the area off and allow no admittance to anyone. After that, having gained support from the rest of the country, they plan to march against you.”

  Selar nodded slowly. “And how did you get your hands on this letter? Was it your spy? Who is he?”

  “Roy Seaton, Sire.”

  “Seaton? That worm?” Selar sank into a chair. “All right, who else?”

  Vaughn, as though given a breath of life, took a step forward. “Galbraith of Lonley, Lord Eshton and his brother Clarence, Kitson, Knollys and Lacy. There are others Seaton has mentioned in previous communications. I have them noted down.”

  “I should hope so. Anyone else I should know about?”

  Vaughn laced his hands together and rested them against his yellow surplice. “One, Sire. Oliver Sinclair, Duke of Haddon.”

  Selar sat forward with a start. “Haddon? You can’t be serious!”

  When Vaughn didn’t answer, Selar sprang to his feet and strode to the door. “Bates! Get Eachern and Kandar up here immediately!”

  As the door shut again, Selar paced back to the fireplace. He was silent a moment, then glanced not at Vaughn but at Nash. “How long a ride is it to Dunwyn from here?”

  “About five days at forced march, Sire. Less if there are horses to change.”

  “Five days.” Selar thought again. Then to Vaughn, “Is there any chance Blair knows about Seaton?”

  “None, Sire. Seaton is still enmeshed, along with the others. They think to catch you unawares.”

  “Then he won’t be expecting me to send a force down to meet him in the middle of spring, will he?”

  Kandar and Eachern arrived and were quickly apprised of the news. Selar’s orders flew about the room like angry hornets. Eachern was to lead a force of the King’s own men, five hundred strong, supported by Vaughn’s Guilde guard of two hundred. They were to leave at dawn the following day.

  “And remember, Eachern, I want Blair and Haddon alive. I want them to stand trial and I want them to pay. No man breaks his oath to me without suffering for it! Do you understand? As for the rest, I don’t care what you do with them—but I do care to hear there is nothing left of Dunwyn by the time you leave. Go.”

  The room emptied, leaving Nash alone with Selar.

  “Open those damned curtains will you? It’s too hot in here.”

  Nash quietly did as he was bid, then on impulse, brought the jug of wine over to refill Selar’s cup.

  “It’s been three years,” Selar murmured.

  “Sire?”

  “Three years—and what happens only moments after he gets back? His damned uncle gets himself embroiled in treason! You never met Dunlorn, did you?”

  “He left before I came to court.”

  “But you’ve heard stories?”

  “Who has not?”

  Selar gave a bark of ironic laughter. “Robert, for one.” He reached for the wine and refilled his cup again. For a moment he gazed into the dark liquid, then gently placed it on the table. “There are many stories—and many lies. But the truth is that I removed Dunlorn from the council more for his own safety than anything else.”

  “I understand, Sire.”

  “Do you?” Turning a piercing grey gaze on him, Selar shook his head. “No, I don’t think you can.”

  “There she is.”

  “Where?”

  “Just passing through the gate, do you see?”

  “Oh yes. And who are the others?”

  “The raven-haired woman beside her is her sister, Bella, and the man riding in front is Bella’s husband, Lord Lawrence Maitland, a wealthy but minor baron. It’s a small train, of course, half a dozen guards and a couple of servants. I suppose they hope to keep a low profile while they’re here.”

  “It won’t do them any good.”

  Nash turned away from the window and gazed down at Valena. She wore a shift of the finest gauze silk in a gentle cream colour which set off the honey-gold of her hair to perfection. He reached out and swept a strand of it away from her face and bent to kiss her. This time, however, she made no move to encourage him.

  “Are you certain that’s her?” Valena murmured, her eyes still on the city below.

  “I’d know her face anywhere,” Nash replied.

  “She has no aura.”

  Nash turned back to the window. “Of course not. Her powers are still submerged. Hell, I put enough effort into it. When they do develop you’ll be able to Seek her regardless of where she is. Hopefully, though, we’ll be able to postpone that moment for as long as possible.”

  Valena nodded absently and left him by the window. Without a word, she picked up a gown of deep blue and slipped it over her head.

  “What’s wrong?” Nash asked softly without approaching her.

  “Nothing.”

  Nash glanced once more out of the window, then sat down on the padded bench. “Tell me.”

  Valena began lacing up her gown but didn’t look at him. “You got Selar to order her here, didn’t you? You suggested she might be a threat to his throne if she managed to produce a male heir.”

  “Yes. What of it?”

  “Why? I thought you said it was too soon for her part in all this. So why did you want her here? What do you plan to do with her now that she’s so close?”

  Nash ventured a chuckle. “What are you worried about? That I’ll want her to replace you?”

  Valena stamped her foot, managing, despite her frown, to still look exquisite. “Stop it, Samdon. Just tell me the truth. Why do you want her here? Is she a danger to us? Tell me, dammit!”

  Nash rose to his feet and crossed the room, “Don’t push me too far, Valena. I’ve warned you before.”

  She pouted and dropped her chin. “Oh? And what will you do to me? You’re not going to use that old threat of killing me with the Word of Destruction, are you?”

  “I could.”

  “Rubbish! You don’t even know what it is. If you did, we wouldn’t be going through this ridiculous charade. Now stop this silly game and tell me what you’re going to do.”

  “I plan to do nothing when she gets here. I just want to get a look at her. That’s all.” Nash backed off. His anger wasn’t real, but one day, despite her beauty and other talents, she would push him too far. And then, Word of Destruction or no, he would kill her.

  Valena took in a breath and continued dressing. “Perhaps I should have a quiet chat with her.”

  “No!” Nash snapped, then smiled to soften his words. “You’re to stay away from her, my dear. Do you understand? I don’t want you anywhere near her. You’re too overpowering and too damned dangerous by far.”

  Valena decided to make it a joke. “Now you’re trying to flatter me.”

  “I’m serious. I didn’t put all that effort into getting Selar to invite her here just so you could ruin it. I will observe her from a distance and speak to her when the moment is right. I can find out what we need without you getting involved.”

  The laughter died in her voice and she looked up at him with dark, serious eyes. “You are sure about all this, aren’t you? Sure of what your father and grandfather taught you? There’s no mistake?”

  “None,” he replied with certainty. “The only mistake was the battle of Alusia. If it hadn’t been for our loss there, this would all have happened two hundred years ago. As it is, the delay has proved useful. So much has been lost since then, we are the only ones who know anything about it. I need you to promise me you will behave.”

  She nodded. “I promise.” Then the sparkle returned to her eyes and she lifted her head to kiss him languorously. “I hope, though, you don’t mean that too literally.”

  As always her kiss was sweet and, as always, he found it difficult to remember why he’d been angry with her. Even though a part of him knew she did it deliberately, it didn’t dim the power she had over him.
He stood back to allow her to finish dressing. “We must hurry. We have to get young Keith on his way before the armies get too far ahead of him. They’ve already got the morning’s head start.”

  In a swirl of velvet, Valena donned her cloak and together they left the tower and descended to the stables. There the young man waited patiently for them, dressed for his journey.

  “Good morning, master.”

  “Good morning, Keith,” Nash began easily. There was no one else about so he quickly checked the saddlebags on the waiting horse. “You know what you have to do?”

  “Yes, master. I’m to stay behind the army until it reaches Dunwyn and then take the place of one of the soldiers when the battle is joined.”

  “And then?” Valena murmured.

  “I’m to kill both Blair and Haddon, if possible without revealing myself.”

  Valena smiled and turned to Nash. “I told you he was ready.”

  “And of course I believed you, my dear. Keith, show me your shoulder.”

  “What?” Valena took a step forward. “You’re not going to do that here! What if someone sees you?”

  Nash laughed. “What can they see? Besides, I dare not send him off to Dunwyn without setting this afresh.” Without another word, Nash reached up and placed his hand over the faint Mark on the young man’s shoulder. Seconds later he removed it and the shoulder was clean.

  “By the gods, you are arrogant!” Valena murmured, then abruptly laughed. “You are such a good servant to Selar. Not only do you supply him with raiders that he can blame on his brother, but you also happily remove his two greatest enemies. All without him knowing about it!”

  Nash had to purse his lips not to smile. He turned to Keith. “Time for you to go.”

  “Yes, master.” Keith mounted the horse and rode out through the courtyard.

  Valena moved close to Nash, her voice dark and sultry. “I’m sure his father would have been proud of him—if he were alive.”

  “Well, his grandfather’s alive—and I don’t think he’d be proud one little bit. Baron Campbell is a good friend of Blair’s. Personally, I think there’s a touching irony to all this. Somehow, I think it fits.”

  “If you’re so pleased,” Valena added, “I suppose you don’t mind accompanying me through the town. I would at least like to get a look at the girl, since you won’t let me near her. I promise to behave myself. If we hurry we can be out in the street as she passes by.”

  Nash gave in gracefully. “Why not?”

  Finnlay left Murdoch’s shop for the last time and headed back along the street to the hostelry to collect his horse. It had certainly been an interesting few days, but he was glad to be going home. And there was so much he had to tell Robert—not that he would be that interested. Tales of intrigue, rescue plots and dawn troop movements were of no concern to Robert these days. About the only thing Finnlay could report that would get Robert’s attention was the fact that Selar had no intention of doing anything at all about these roving bandits that were plaguing the land. Small bands of inconsequential raiders meant nothing to Selar—even if they did fire the gossip of almost every tavern in the capital. Whether Selar was concerned about them or not, the people were and they didn’t understand why the King refused to do anything about them.

  His horse was saddled and ready for him, but the street was too crowded to mount up just yet. So Finnlay led it through the back alleys towards the gate. He paused at the entrance to the main thoroughfare, which was even more crowded. With a sigh, he glanced up at the sky and the dark threatening clouds which hung there. It would pour down before the day was out. He sighed again and went to turn into the main street, then paused and instantly shrank back into the shadows.

  There, walking along the crowded street was that man, Nash. Dressed in grey, with only his silver badge of office denoting his rank in the Guilde. His face was lean and angular and sported a finely trimmed beard of black hair. He was neither ugly nor handsome, but remarkably unremarkable. However, the same could not be said for the woman with the most exquisite face Finnlay had ever seen who strolled beside him.

  Valena!

  They were greeted at the keep by the castle chatelaine and shown to rooms high in the south wall, overlooking the river. From her window Jenn gazed into the distance, trying to imagine what the ocean looked like, but there were only thick grey clouds tumbling across the horizon and no sign of any sea. With the early glow of sunset behind her the green valley looked flat and intransigent.

  “Well, it’s better than I expected,” Bella remarked firmly, entering through the open door. “These rooms are comfortable, but not sumptuous. Anything more and I would have been seriously worried.”

  “You’re always worried,” Jenn murmured before she could stop herself. Instantly she regretted it and cast an apologetic glance over her shoulder. Before her sister could respond, she added, “Why is it good?”

  “Because it means Selar intends to pay no particular attention to us—or rather, to you. It’s not flattering, but much safer this way, trust me.” Bella ran a finger along the stone lintel above the fireplace and the small wooden table in the corner.

  “If I’m so unimportant, why am I here?”

  “There is a big difference between being important and being a threat. Just be glad you’re only one of those things.”

  “If I had to choose, I’d rather be important than be a threat,” Jenn offered with an attempt at humour. “At least we’d get better rooms.”

  “Don’t be stupid!” Bella snapped back. “We’ve been over this a hundred times! Our position is very precarious and you know it. The only reason why our House was allowed to survive Selar’s conquest was because Father was incapable of being any threat to the throne. Have you absorbed none of the history Father Brian has taught you? Don’t you know that a monarch always rids himself of any rival family line? That’s what makes his position so secure—there is no alternative. We’ve remained secure because Father never produced a son who could be supported as a rival King. I have ... no children of my own, sister, but you are another matter entirely.”

  Jenn’s light mood dissipated completely before Bella’s onslaught. In a pale voice she asked, “But who would marry me? With my background? Without a husband or son, I’m no more a threat than Father.”

  Bella almost smiled—almost. “And that’s exactly what we want Selar to see. You need to show him that you have no interest in politics—in fact, it would almost be worth your hinting an interest in taking the veil. Anything to make him believe that we are best left well alone.”

  With a final glance around the room, Bella nodded. “I expect you to do your best for all our sakes. This will not be an easy month, but I warn you, be careful of what you say to these people. Trust no one. You know none of these people, nor where their loyalties lie. Create the facade, Jennifer—it’s supposed to be something you’re good at. Oh, and while we’re on the subject—do your best not to mention Dunlorn while we’re here. He’s not exactly held in high regard any more and I don’t want people thinking there is some kind of alliance between our Houses. I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

  Bella closed the door behind her and Jenn slumped against the wall. Feeling the cold stone through her sleeve did nothing to reawaken the delight she’d felt when they’d first arrived in this extraordinary city. She should be pleased to be here, and would have been, if not for Bella’s words. How had life become so dangerous?

  An icy sick feeling seeped into her stomach and she tried to breathe deeply as Fiona had taught her. One of several exercises designed to ease fear—despite the fact that Jenn still refused to admit aloud that she ever felt any. These days, it was getting harder to convince herself, let alone anyone else, and for all her robust enthusiasm, Fiona had done little to help. Oh sure, Jenn had learned how to set a warning, but could not under any circumstances do anything that resembled the light Fiona could produce from her ayarn. Fiona insisted that it was too early to be maki
ng any assumptions, but deep down inside, Jenn knew there was really very little the Adept could teach her. As yet, Fiona had not recognized the full extent of Jenn’s abilities—much less the fact that Jenn could speak directly into Robert’s mind.

  Robert.

  With a sigh Jenn tossed off her cloak and turned back to the window. The evening sky had grown darker now and in the distance a rumble of thunder beckoned a storm.

  In this place, Robert was the enemy. To these people, his name alone was dangerous. But they would ask her about him, that much was certain. And what would she say? What could she say? Could she tell them they were all wrong, that Robert could be trusted above even the King they all served?

  Hah! They would laugh at her, and immediately assume she was his ally, that her House could be condemned along with his.

  But how was he? Had he survived his first winter at home? Was he still resolved to his future?

  Once again, Jenn turned her face full to the window and focused her thoughts with as much care and precision as she could manage. Finely now, as Fiona had taught her to work. Focus and concentrate. Gather the power from within. Gather and send it out, like a beacon in the twilight. Send it out as far as possible. Make it strong and clear. Harness the energy inside to do something Fiona knew nothing about. Push hard ...

  Can you hear me? she called. Can you hear my words? How I wish that you could.

  ... and for the briefest, tiniest moment, she felt something. Not a word, nor even a thought as such ... but something ... involuntary, surprised, even shocked. An echo of a thought in response to her call to Robert, like a pale shadow cast on a hazy day. Could it be him? Could he have possibly heard her so far away?

  She opened her mind and let her thoughts float on a cool and inviting sea, not even daring to breathe in case she missed his response. But there was nothing and the moment had passed. Disappointed, she tore her eyes away from the sky and chided herself for being such a fool.

  Unfortunately, Nash was not alone when it happened. Instead he was with Vaughn and Osbert—and Vaughn was not happy.