Sentinals Justice: Book Three of the Sentinal Series

by Helen Garraway

  “Jerrol,” she whispered, her grip convulsing in his hand. “You must remember me, and why we came here.”

  Finn searched her face, observing the shine of tears in her brilliant eyes, a hint of fear clouding her expression, and his gut tightened at the thought of upsetting her.

  “I am sorry, my lady. I-I suffered an injury, and have lost some of my memories.” He smiled at her. “Though I am sure I could never have forgotten anyone as beautiful as you.”

  Taelia stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear, and she bit her lip. “You were hurt? What happened? Are you recovered? Did they look after you?”

  Jerrol twirled her around the dance floor, and his gaze flicked around the room, avoiding her anxious face, though he felt warmed by her obvious concern for him. “I would not be on duty if I was not fit,” he reassured her, and she exhaled a shaky breath.

  Deep down, he knew the truth of her words, and yet, how could they be true? She belonged in his arms. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in months and he knew her soul to soul and yet he didn’t. He caught sight of the tall, dark-haired man who had been escorting her, a brooding scowl on his face. “Umm, your escort doesn’t seem too happy.”

  “Torsion? Jerrol, do you not remember him, either?” Her face paled. “He was your friend and mentor, but no longer! He is your enemy, Jerrol. We knew him as a scholar called Torsion, but now he is openly calling himself an Ascendant called Tor’asion. Be very careful around him and Var’geris. They are trying to enspell the grand duke. They were the ones who caused you to be cast out; they said you had been killed.” She clutched him a little tighter. “I knew it was a lie. But you’ve been gone for so long. It’s been over three months.”

  The music came to an end, and as they came to a halt, she asked urgently, “Did you find Birlerion? Tell him Marianille is here.”

  As Finn bowed over her hand, he realised he couldn’t remember what they had danced to. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for the dance,” he said as he escorted her back to her glowering companion. Turning away, he found a bevy of young ladies clamouring to dance with him. Laughing, he accepted a hand and led one of them back into the fray. None of them danced as well as Scholar Taelia, and he found his eyes drawn to her repeatedly over the evening, though he kept his distance, not wanting to upset her companion any further.

  “It seems you are a hit, Captain,” Vinnsen said with a laugh, breathing fumes over Finn. “You know, you will have to dance at every shindig now. You won’t be able to make excuses, y’know.”

  Finn smiled. “Fortunate that I enjoy dancing, then.”

  “A word of warning. I wouldn’t dance with that blind lass again; her fiancé gets upset. And y’know, he has influence with the grand duke. So tread careful there,” Vinnsen said in a loud whisper.

  “Blind lass? I haven’t danced with any blind girl,” Finn said, looking around the room.

  “First one you danced with; the one in the green dress from Vespiri.”

  “Scholar Taelia? Is she blind? I never realised.” Finn watched her with new eyes, seeing her questing hand. She had seemed so natural with him. “She has a fiancé?”

  “Yeah, possessive one at that,” Vinnsen said as he finally moved away.

  Finn stood quietly to the side of the throne, hands clasped behind his back, observing the room. The general was holding court with some of the senior government members. Finn’s lips twitched as he saw that he was talking to the minister of the treasury. The evening finally came to an end as the musicians played the end of the song with a flourish and began to pack away their instruments.

  Tor’asion stood to escort Taelia and her tall protector, Marianille, he assumed, from the room. Taelia flashed Finn a smile as she left, unerringly picking out where he stood. She smoothly diverted Tor’asion, who didn’t notice him. And she was blind? She could see him.

  Ulfr joined him by the dais. “Well, you don’t waste time, do you?” he grinned, rotating his shoulders.

  Finn looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Heard the general bending the minister’s ear, asking how much these evenings cost and if we could afford them.”

  “Ah,” Finn grunted.

  “Clever. Well, see you later. We’ve got to clear this little lot up now.”

  Finn watched the staff efficiently clear the room, waiting to give Tor’asion and Taelia time to travel the corridors before he too left to find his room.

  Sleep was long coming; it all fit rather too well. He had been at Adeeron for at least three months. He could be this Jerrol Haven, but what could he do about it? And how would he get his memory back? He considered for a moment; if he was Jerrol, how had no one recognised him except for Taelia? Had he changed that much?

  And Birlerion; could that be Birler? He would manoeuvre him into the vicinity of the tall woman, Marianille, and see what happened. Maybe that would trigger something?

  His objective was unchanged; he was here to protect the grand duke and his people. He felt a sense of relief that he was, at least, still fulfilling his duty. Then that was what he would continue to do. The rest would no doubt solve itself. He closed his eyes and finally slept.

  29

  Retarfu, Elothia

  Finn was up at five the next morning with the household staff, roaming the halls, making himself known, though most had already seen him from the previous evening. The maids followed him with wistful eyes. The footmen recognised a kindred spirit. He had won them all over by the time he had finished his tour.

  By seventh chime, the guards had changed. Vinnsen and his men left promptly, and Finn’s men were in their new positions, eager to prove to the captain that they were ready. The off-duty guards were busy poring over maps and memorising routes. The more alert were taking their cues from their captain and making efforts to get to know the palace staff, especially those in the kitchen.

  Finn met Owen on the way to the grand duke’s chambers.

  “You certainly know how to make an impression,” Owen said as a rare grin flashed over his face before taking position outside the double doors that led to the grand duke’s chamber.

  “Remember, no one enters unless they are on that list.” Finn tapped the board in Owen’s hand.

  Owen rolled his eyes. “I know how to do my job, sir.”

  Finn grinned, opened the outer doors and knocked on the inner door. He entered at the soft command. He closed the doors behind him, saluted the man standing in front of the window and waited.

  The grand duke turned around. “Captain Finn.” He stared at Finn, his pale blue eyes sharp as he observed him. “What are you going to tell me I need to do?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. Wearing just a white shirt and black trousers, he looked very young and strained. His fair hair was swept back off his face and tied in a queue with a thin black ribbon. His ornate jacket was slung over the back of a chair.

  “I’m not here to tell you to do anything, sir. I can report that your guards are now stationed more appropriately to ensure your safety. There will always be a guard outside your door should you need him, and they will only admit personnel whom you have approved. If they are not on the list that you agree with Steward Ulfr every evening, then they will not be granted entry.”

  “How do you expect to manage that?” the grand duke asked with interest.

  Finn looked at the grand duke blandly. “Sir, you are the Grand Duke of Elothia. What you order will be.”

  “And if I say I would like to have a solitary breakfast for once?”

  “Then that is what you shall have. Your word is my command, sir,” Finn replied.

  “Very well, I desire breakfast for one this morning. Var’geris can wait until the morning session for his audience.”

  “As you command. Anything else you require, sir?”

  Randolf looked at him. “Not at this moment. The novelty has yet to kick in.”

  Finn’s lips twitched. “Of course, sir. When would Your Grace prefer I report? What time would suit y
ou?”

  The grand duke raised an eyebrow. “You think you will have something to report every day?”

  “Of course, sir, even if it is just to say that all is well.”

  “Good. I expect you to report at seven every morning at these chambers without fail,” the grand duke ordered firmly.

  Finn bowed. “As you command, sir. Your duty guard is Lieutenant Kerisk.”

  The grand duke nodded dismissal and was pleasantly surprised when the captain smartly turned and left. He was even more surprised when breakfast for one arrived, and he enjoyed a quiet meal for the first time in weeks without interruption.

  Finn spent the day instilling in the grand duke’s household that they worked for the grand duke and no one else and that they only obeyed orders from the steward, his staff or the grand duke himself. On matters of security, they were to listen to Captain Finn or Lieutenant Kerisk. The staff straightened their spines and walked a little prouder.

  Owen barred the doors to the grand duke’s chambers, and glared at the Ascendant called Var’geris.

  “You need to get your priorities straight,” Var’geris hissed. “It is in your interests to assist us.”

  “I am a Lieutenant in the grand duke’s Chevron, I don’t have to do anything you say,” Owen spat back.

  “You will if you want your sister back in one piece. Just one word. One. Is all it will take.”

  Owen’s stomach crawled. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Still? Was our previous conversation not proof enough? Maybe I’ll have a chat with your mother, maybe she can persuade you?”

  “You hurt a hair on her head …”

  Var’geris laughed and cut him off. “And what, Lieutenant Kerisk? We hold the cards here. You will do what we say or your sister, or maybe your mother will be the one to regret it.”

  Owen took a step forward, gritting his teeth, and Var’geris shook his head as he tutted. “Don’t be hasty. Remember who is at risk. Best behaviour, Lieutenant Kerisk.” Var’geris turned away. “Next time, you allow me entry, or else.” The threat hovered in the air long after the Ascendant had disappeared.

  Owen straightened, a scowl etched on his face as he resumed guarding the grand duke’s door. His mind raced. What did the Ascendant’s want of him? To go to such lengths, if indeed they had. He had no way of proving it one way or the other. There was no way to contact his father, not in time for it to be any help.

  The door behind him opened and he stiffened as the grand duke stepped out of his apartment. Owen waited for the young man to precede him down the corridor and then followed as Finn’s order to protect the grand duke no matter what, rang in his ears.

  Randolf cast a startled glance at him and squared his shoulders as he led the way to his throne room. The courtiers bowed in a ripple as he made his way through the chamber. Var’geris scowled at both the Duke and Owen as they passed and the grand duke hesitated. He stiffened as he caught sight of his new captain standing at attention at the foot of his dais.

  Randolf ignored Finn and stepped up to his throne. Moving to stand behind his shoulder, Owen stared blankly ahead of him. Randolf sat as the first petitioner stepped forward, bowed, and began speaking. “It has been six weeks since I last came. You promised to review my request ...” the man trailed off as Finn cleared his throat.

  “You will address His Grace the Grand Duke as Your Grace or Your Highness,” he said in a firm voice.

  The man flicked a look at the captain’s forbidding face and glanced up at the grand duke and blushed. “Y-Your Grace, it has been six weeks since our last audience. You promised you would review my petition to expand my holding. I have yet to receive word, if you please, Your Grace.” The man flicked a nervous glance at the captain.

  Owen almost laughed out loud as the grand duke coughed, was that all it took?

  “Ah, yes. A holding in the Arla district. Minister Janssen, haven’t you resolved this yet?” The grand duke looked across at a small man, who stepped forward, bowing.

  “Your Grace,” Janssen said with aplomb, his eyes twinkling, “Unfortunately, there was an issue with the documentation. But if the gentleman would like to accompany me, I am sure we can resolve it all.”

  “Excellent. Be so good to attend the minister.”

  “Th-thank you, Your Grace,” the man said, bowing low, casting a look of awe up at the grand duke and his captain.

  Var’geris strode forward, casting a glare at Finn. “Your Grace, I demand a private audience.”

  Finn tutted. “His Grace the Grand Duke of Elothia does not appreciate demands,” he said, glaring across the audience room.

  Owen muffled a snort as the people shuffled awkwardly. The expression on Var’geris’ face lifted his spirits and made him want to cheer. He concentrated on keeping his face blank as he watched the Ascendants thwarted again. Finn was not messing about. A small disturbance at the door resolved itself to be Tor’asion entering the room, obviously arriving in haste.

  Var’geris swallowed as he met Randolf’s hard stare. “Ah, Your Grace, my apologies. It is quite urgent that we speak. If you would be so good to grant me a few moments of your time.”

  “Of course, speak to my steward, Ulfr. He has my schedule for the week. Next!” Randolf replied, waving his hand.

  Var’geris had no choice but to bow and retreat, glaring at Finn as he left. Finn ignored him and stared forward. The rest of the audience passed uneventfully. Those petitioners who dared to approach did so circumspectly, and then the audience was over. The grand duke rose. “Captain, attend me,” he said as he passed. Finn fell in behind his shoulder beside Owen and escorted the grand duke to his study.

  Finn stood at ease before the grand duke’s desk. Randolf was seated, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Captain, do you have a death wish?” he asked, his face serious.

  “Not specifically, Your Grace, but if you expect your authority to be upheld, then people should treat you appropriately. My job is to protect the throne of Elothia and its incumbent, yourself. Unless, of course, you do not wish to be treated with the respect you are due?”

  “Var’geris is not to be trifled with.”

  “No, Your Grace. If he treats you and your orders with respect, then there is no reason for strife.” Finn shrugged. “If he tries to kill me, I expect you to deal with him appropriately and appoint another captain. It would not be seemly for an adviser to kill your guards, sir. Especially an advisor who is not Elothian.”

  Randolf frowned. “You don’t think I should take advice from someone who is not Elothian?”

  “Your Grace will take advice from whomever he deems appropriate, sir. It not my place to comment.”

  “How long can you keep him from my door?”

  “For as long as you need us too, sir.”

  “Tempting but probably not wise.” The grand duke sighed and rested his chin on his hand. He watched Finn closely. “It didn’t use to be like this. I thought my reign would be peaceful and prosperous. Instead, I have strife on the borders and starvation inland. The winter looks to be harsh this year.”

  “Perhaps solving the strife on the borders and redirecting the resources and the food inland would solve both your problems, sir.”

  “If only it were that easy,” the grand duke replied. “Thank you, captain, for your assistance this morning; it was timely.” He nodded dismissal and Finn turned smartly and left the room. The grand duke stared thoughtfully out of the window until he was interrupted by Ulfr.

  30

  Grand Duke’s Palace, Retarfu

  Finn continued his roving patrols, keeping both his guards and the staff on their toes. He took his turn on patrol, usually guarding the grand duke’s chambers, though, on occasion, in other locations around the palace. He watched everyone and everything.

  Var’geris eventually got his audience with the grand duke, Finn waving him through, blank-faced. What transpired between the grand duke and his advisor Finn didn’t know, but he received an icy glare as
the advisor left.

  One morning, Finn was sitting in the sheltered orange garden on a rare occasion when he had nothing to do, just listening to the water tinkling in the fountain when he realised he was no longer alone. He looked up from his contemplation of the water to see the scholar’s attendant before him.

  “Captain,” Marianille said.

  “Marianille, how goes you?” Finn replied easily.

  “The better for your return. But where is the Lady?”

  Finn frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t know any Lady.”

  The attendant stilled and then said, “What’s the plan, Captain?”

  Finn frowned. “How do you know me, Marianille? No one, but you and the scholar, seem to recognise me.”

  “I know you because you are my Captain and I’d know you anywhere. Others do not recognise you as they never met you. When we arrived here in Retarfu, it was late at night; we met no one. Only you met the grand duke with Niallerion the next day, but not for long enough for him to recognise you now.

  “You look so different in that uniform; much thinner and with a beard. Though be warned Captain, Tor’asion recognised you. He is just biding his time before he denounces you.”

  Finn stared at the tall woman before him; her silver eyes were familiar and yet not. “I have no choice but to hold the line,” he said as his mind raced. His stomach churned at the thought of unknown enemies. It was disconcerting that others knew who he was and yet he didn’t. What had happened to him to cause such complete memory loss? “We have to protect the grand duke. There is something we must do here, only I’m not sure what it was.”

  “Speak to Taelia; you asked her to find something. I think she has found it.”

  “Did I?” Finn sighed. “I don’t remember her or you. I wish I knew who I was and what is going on. It is most distressing.”