EXILE'S RETURN

by Kate Jacoby

  “He is evil, I tell you, to his very core!” Vaughn bellowed. “I will have him destroyed if it takes my last breath!”

  Osbert raised his hands in a vain attempt to calm Vaughn. “My lord, we have plenty of time to catch Dunlorn. Sooner or later he will show his hand. If there is any evidence of his collusion with Blair, then we will find it. At the moment, however, Dunlorn’s inaction merely looks like further support of the King, and how can there be evil in that?”

  Vaughn bounced to his feet, his eyes red with fury. “Don’t try to tell me what I know! That man is a. . .” he gasped, then finished, “he is evil and I will not justify my reasons further. Get close to the King, Nash, and bring Dunlorn down. That’s an order!”

  Nash bowed and backed away to the door. Silently he slipped out, took two steps along the empty corridor and stopped.

  That touch. Who could it have been? Valena? Another Malachi? Who?

  There was only one way to find out. Tonight he would have to find a quiet place and scan the entire city from top to bottom. Somewhere within the walls of Marsay was a sorcerer of extraordinary power. He would have to find them. He must.

  Chapter 13

  The clouds on the horizon glowed gold with the coming dawn. The fine misty rain which had plagued Robert all night had lifted and left his men in peace long enough to complete the ride home. They were all tired. Even the horses, spelled on alternating nights, were now showing the strain of these fruitless vigils. But what else was he to do? The raids had not let up with the onset of spring, they had in fact increased in number. Even with the help of his neighbours, no further contact with the raiders had been achieved, let alone their defeat.

  It was so frustrating. This was all he had left to do, the only action he could allow himself to perform. If only he could do more ...

  No. Now was not the time to waver—especially with Finnlay due back from court this evening. Now, more than ever, Robert had to remain firm. To become involved again would only guarantee disaster.

  A pale watery sunrise greeted them as they rode through the gates of Dunlorn. Robert dismounted and left orders with Deverin that there would be no patrol that night. The men needed more than a few hours’ rest now and, raiders or no, they deserved it. He climbed the stone steps to the great hall. Bone-weary and almost asleep on his feet, Robert very nearly missed the pair of muddy boots lying by the glowing hearth. The feet they belonged to were stretched out from the foot of a tall-backed chair.

  “Finn?”

  His brother jerked upright, his eyes glazed with sleep. “Ah, Robert, you’re back. Good. I was just resting my eyes. Wanted to speak to you before I went to bed.”

  “Did you ride all night?” Robert came around and sank into a chair opposite. Owen appeared and offered him breakfast, but his appetite had long since departed. As Owen left with a frown, Robert turned back to Finnlay. “What was the hurry? I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

  “Got sick of riding, really,” Finnlay mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. “Had an interesting time, though.”

  “And McCauly?” Robert asked without pausing. “He’s still in one piece?”

  “He’s fine. Still in prison, but he’s fine.”

  “But no chance of getting him out?”

  “Not that Murdoch can see.”

  “Well, if there’s nothing urgent, you can tell me all about it tonight, after we’ve both had some sleep.”

  Finnlay shook his head and looked up with red eyes. “I don’t know whether you’d call it urgent, Robert, but I saw Valena—in the company of a Guilde man who’s become Selar’s most trusted friend.”

  “What?” Robert hardly had the energy to react, but that didn’t stop the chill that ran down his spine. “A Malachi—so close to the king? Are you sure?”

  “Saw her with my own eyes, Robert. I’m hardly going to forget a face like that, am I? They were not ten feet from me—and no, she didn’t see me. I only saw her as I was leaving Marsay, so I can’t tell you anything more. It’s ...”

  Finnlay broke off with a frown of pain. He shook his head again then glanced up in apology. “Sorry, my head hurts with all that riding.”

  Robert stood. Finnlay was more than tired, he was unwell. “You look about as bad as I feel. Come on, I’ll help you up to bed. We can talk about this later.”

  He reached out and took Finnlay’s arm, drawing him to his feet. Finnlay swayed and almost fell, murmuring apologies again. Robert put Finnlay’s arm around his shoulders and almost carried him up the stairs. All the way up, Finn kept mumbling something about Murdoch and a priest but Robert could make no sense of it. By the time Finnlay was in bed, the murmuring had stopped and Robert left him to sleep.

  Micah took the supper tray from Owen and made his way up the stairs just as the last light filtered through the hall windows. He moved silently along the corridor and paused before Robert’s study. The door was open, but he still knocked.

  “Come in, Micah, put that down and take a look at this.” Robert was leaning over the long table which ran down the centre of the room. As usual it was strewn with papers and books and it was at one of these that he now pointed. “I’d forgotten all about it. You remember when I bought it? In Budlandi? I meant to show it to Finnlay when he came back from the Enclave but he ran off to Marsay and now he’s sick in bed ...”

  “My lord?” Micah stayed back from the table and waited. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  “What is it?” Robert murmured, absently.

  Micah just waited. He had to. There was no way he was going to make this confession unless his master was looking at him. It was hard enough as it was, without doing it like a coward.

  “Well?” Robert prompted, then turned slowly. Reading Micah’s sombre expression, he straightened up. “All right, out with it. What have you done?”

  Now that the moment had come, Micah found it difficult to find the right words. He took several breaths but none of them really filled his chest. In a last-ditch effort, he swallowed and pulled back his shoulders. His father always said it was good for courage and now was the time to try it.

  “My lord,” he began, “I received a letter today—the latest in a series over the last few months. It was from...” Micah paused, glancing over his shoulder to the door.

  Robert took the unspoken suggestion, closed the door and put a warning on it. “Go on. Who has been writing so regularly to you?”

  “Jenn.”

  Robert’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? And have you been replying?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “And?”

  “My lord?” Micah frowned.

  “Was there something else?” Robert replied, the hint of a smile creasing the corners of his eyes. “Did you expect I’d have some objection to your writing to her?”

  “You don’t?”

  “Of course not!” Robert laughed. “Why would I? I assume you’ve worked out some way to keep your correspondence out of Jacob’s sight, or Bella’s for that matter.”

  “We have, my lord.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Micah shook his head. Even after all these years, there were some days when Robert’s responses still surprised him. He was so sure Robert would have a problem with his writing to Jenn that he’d spent all day trying to gather up the courage to tell him. Then, to get such a reaction? Sometimes it was a lot worse to think about a problem than deal with it.

  “I’m sorry, my lord. I thought, after what you’d said about keeping her away from the Enclave and everything...”

  “And when did you become the Enclave, my friend? I know she’s fond of you. Why shouldn’t you write to her? Actually, I’m glad. I’m not exactly in a position to keep in contact. Besides, I’m not sure she’d welcome it.”

  “Actually, my lord, that is part of the reason why I told you now. As I said, I got a letter from her today and she mentioned something she wanted me to discuss with you. She’s been doing some research about the
Troubles. In particular, about the abductions. Apparently, Baron Campbell went to see her, asking if she could help in finding his grandson, Keith.”

  Micah quickly outlined that meeting, then added, “Based on the theory that there was one person behind the abductions, she decided to try and find some motive. Assuming that each child was taken in order to secure the loyalty or services of each House struck, she mapped out all the relative alliances and positions. Then she applied that to the list of children taken.”

  “Very diligent of her,” Robert murmured lightly, but Micah knew his interest was caught.

  “The thing is—there is no pattern. There is no way all those children taken could have helped any one man.”

  “So it wasn’t one man; all along we’d assumed the opposite. I don’t understand why she was looking.”

  “She also wrote to all the Houses concerned, asking for descriptions of the bandits. Each abduction was performed in exactly the same manner, and in each of them, the leader was an old man who rode a white horse.”

  Robert stared at him, frozen to the spot. Outside, a gentle wind rattled against the shutters and made the candlelight flicker and jump. Micah held his breath and waited. All this made no sense to him but given enough time, Robert was sure to make some connection. He had to. This was too important.

  Slowly, Robert moved, taking one, then two steps towards the window. “There is no way that several culprits could exactly copy the manner of abduction—so therefore, it must be one man. The times and distances make it possible. But if there was no motive tied in with the Troubles—then why?”

  He fell silent again for a moment, then suddenly turned to face Micah. “Oh no! Don’t tell me Patric was right all along!”

  “About what?”

  Robert gave an ironic smile. “Just as a sideline, don’t you think it’s amusing that despite the fact that she’s so far away, she still manages to catch me out? My own fault, really. No, to get back to the point, Patric was very enthusiastic about one of his pet theories the last time I was at the Enclave, before we went away. He said that it was too much of a coincidence that Douglas was the only major House ever to produce a sorcerer—and two in the one family. He said that there had to be more, but that because our Seekers never looked for them, they were never found.”

  “And you were only found because of that accident you had.” Micah nodded.

  “And I brought Finnlay into the fold when I realized he had talent too, exactly. So what if there were more—but somebody found out and took them during the Troubles? Who would look for them? By the gods, the Troubles must have seemed like a gift from heaven. But that doesn’t get us any closer to finding them—or the person responsible—unless...” he paused and turned back to face Micah, “unless it’s been there all along but we’ve been blind to it.”

  Micah frowned, not understanding for a moment. Then it hit him. “Malachi?”

  Robert nodded, but as quickly shook his head, “No. I can’t see how they’d just leave Jenn to live in a tavern in the middle of nowhere. There must be some other explanation, some other reason someone would want to gather them up.”

  “And their purpose?”

  “As children, I don’t know. But as adults? As adults, they would be far more use. Hell! I was a fool to believe Jenn would be safe at Elita!”

  Micah knew where this was heading and raised his hands to forestall it. “My lord, Jenn did say you would react like this. She told me to tell you she is perfectly safe. She has developed certain defences and will know if anyone comes to her with ... evil intentions. But there was something else.”

  “There’s more?”

  “She’s been ordered to present herself at court. She will be there by now.”

  For the first time in his life, Micah saw the colour drain completely from his master’s face. It was not a comforting sight, and it brought a chill to his stomach.

  “What does Selar want with her? Why would he need to see her? I.. .” Robert turned away and walked to the fireplace where kindling had been set. He remained very still for a moment, then abruptly swept his left arm out in a gesture of frustration. The kindling exploded into flame and Micah jumped back. What was this? Anger? From Robert?

  “I’m sorry,” Robert murmured after a moment.

  Micah took a few steps forward and said softly, “You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. You just have to hold on.”

  “While people around me are hurt? I just sit back and watch it all happen, Micah?” Robert whispered. “Is that what I’ve chosen? Is that my destiny? To be witness to it all, knowing I can do nothing to stop it? That when I tried to, I failed...”

  “If you could, would you change your mind?”

  “By the gods, Micah, I don’t know! It’s at times like this that I miss my father. He never managed to get into this kind of trouble.”

  “If you will forgive me, my lord,” Micah smiled a little, “much as I loved and respected your father, he was not the man you are.”

  Robert turned at this with a sad laugh. “As I said, he never got into this kind of trouble. Well, I’ve got nobody but myself to blame. And I’m not completely powerless. There’re still those damned raiders to tackle.”

  “Yes, indeed. Of course, they’d make life a lot easier if they didn’t always seem to appear one step ahead of us—or behind us.” Micah was glad to change the subject.

  Robert nodded and headed back for his wine, then stopped with the cup halfway to his mouth. “You know, Micah, for the son of a farmer you can be pretty clever sometimes.”

  “My lord?”

  Robert drained the cup and thumped it down on the table. “Call Deverin and have him gather a dozen of his best men—on fresh horses, mind. We’re going out again—and this time, I know exactly where to look for these damned raiders!”

  This was not the first time Robert had had to work discreetly. There were sixteen men to manage, plus Deverin, who had refused to stay behind. Twelve men on horseback, each making his own share of noise, and Robert had to use his powers to muffle the sounds of them all without drawing any attention to what he was doing. Micah knew, of course, and expertly shielded Robert from any casual glances. With luck, the men would be concentrating on their work too much to notice how quietly they were travelling.

  They headed east, in the opposite direction and half an hour behind the other squad Robert had ordered out as an afterthought. If this didn’t work, by sending out another party he would get a second crack at it.

  “Are you sure you know where we’re going, my lord?” Micah murmured, as soft as dew.

  “Positive,” Robert nodded, his ayarn clutched firmly in his left hand. “We scouted Wenlay Copse last night. Where better for them to hide than the last place we looked? Don’t worry, my friend, they’ll be there.”

  The wind had risen by the time they neared their destination. As a kind of compensation, however, the moon also chose that moment to disappear behind a bank of heavy cloud. The darkness was complete, making Robert’s task that much easier. He halted his men halfway up the rise of the moor and gathered them together.

  “Listen carefully. It’s my guess the raiders are camped in the copse below on the other side of this hill. We have to move slowly and in complete silence. Half of you will take the east side, the other half, the west. Come down as far as you dare without giving the alarm. Stop and wait for my signal. By now most of them will be asleep, as I’m sure you all wish you were. Still, there’s bound to be a guard so I want you to wait until I’ve removed him before you strike. Good luck.”

  In one movement, his men turned their horses and continued up the hill, splitting into two groups just short of the crest, then disappearing over the top. Micah waited beside Robert until they were gone, then said, “What are you going to do? How far can they get without being seen?”

  “Not far, I’m afraid. Come on, we have very little time.” He led Micah around the hill until they could see the edge of the copse. They were close enough t
o hear the trickle of water in the brook running into the valley. “This will do. Leave the horses here.”

  My but it would be useful to have Jenn’s little trick of speaking mind to mind. It was just this sort of occasion that would benefit immensely. He dropped to the ground and felt Micah beside him. Together, they crawled through the heather, making no sound at all. Then, only thirty feet away, Robert stopped again and drew out his ayarn.

  “Are you ...” Micah whispered.

  “Yes,” Robert replied, “I’m going to try the biggest mask I’ve ever attempted. I need you to keep watch for that sentry.”

  Micah turned his gaze out towards the copse, leaving Robert to focus on the stone in his hand. From here he could easily see the faint glow of dying camp fires between the trees. This was the place indeed.

  He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Like most masks, he would have to do this without letting the ayarn glow. It was complicated, but not impossible. He let his thoughts calm and still, then, he reached deep inside and bullied up the power he required. He gathered it together in a single narrow beam, sent it through the ayarn and out into the wilderness. The stone obediently kept the beam rigid and tight, leaving him the freedom to direct it where he would. He spread it out in a sheet of blankness big enough to cover both sloping sides of the copse. Further and further he went, his senses stretching distances he’d never thought possible. Beneath the mask he could feel the heartbeats of each of his men, almost see their faces in the dark. Then ...

  “By the gods!” he whispered, “there’s a Malachi down there!”

  Again he pushed further, until the circle was complete. All sides of the copse were now covered by the mask and anyone looking up from the camp would see nothing but the heather-covered hill. It would hold long enough for them to attack. Hopefully, the sleeping Malachi would remain ignorant of it as well.

  “Right,” Robert breathed, “let’s go.”

  At a crouch he ran down the slope to the edge of the brook and with the last of his energy, sent his senses out far enough to identify the sentry. He was only a few feet away, sitting with his back to a tree—dozing.