Lennox, Mary - Heart of Fire.txt
Page 34
constantly, giving off sparks of rosy light almost like living fire.
It tugged at his heart with a mystical power. He had never looked
at anything inanimate before and given a judgment to it other
than to say, “This is beautiful,” or “This is unpleasing.”
But the stone had a soul.
“It is exactly what I wish,” Nicholas said. “How much do
you want for it?”
The merchant named a sum, and Nicholas immediately
wrote out a bank draft. “You know,” he said, handing the draft
to the merchant. “You’re welcome here for as long as you wish
to stay. I could get you out of Laurentia in two weeks with a
diplomatic mission heavily surrounded by a troop of cavalry.”
The merchant tugged at his hat again. “That’s kind of you,
Sire, but I can’t risk it. If ye don’t mind, I’ll let myself out and
gather my things together at the inn.” He deposited the bank
draft deep into the pocket of his coat. Nicholas rose.
“I’ll tell the guards to admit you again should you change
your mind.”
“Thank ye, Sire. It’s very good to me you’ve been, and all
your people. I don’t deserve it, but I’ll not forget it, either.”
“Good luck to you, man,” said Nicholas.
“I fear my luck has run out,” said the merchant with a hollow
laugh. “But ye can always hope.” The man bowed his way out
of the study.
Nicholas opened his hand. The ruby lay warm against his
palm. Had he been fanciful, he would have thought the haunted
merchant unfit to carry this stone. But the ruby would grace
Sera’s throat now. Who better than Sera to wear a jewel that
aroused such joy?
Nicholas called for Monsieur Laliche, the court jeweler. “I
need this by tonight. Surround the stone with diamonds,” he
said. “But don’t cut away even the smallest amount of it. It’s
perfect just as it is.”
***
When Andre proposed their shopping trip for her bridal
gown, Sera panicked. “I don’t want to,” she said in a voice that
wavered like a child’s. Where was Nicholas? She needed to
remind him of all the reasons why he shouldn’t marry her.
“Every bride needs a wedding gown,” Katherine insisted.
“Come along. We need to get to Carlsohnn’s and then return
again for your first fitting.”
Edmund Carlsohnn did not make it any easier for Sera. He
had already heard through the capital’s intricate grapevine that
she and the king were to marry very soon. By the time they
reached his shop, yards of white lace and creamy silks and
brocades lay upon the cutting table at the back of the shop, and
Monsieur Carlsohnn stood behind it with a delighted expression
on his face, rubbing his hands together.
“I cannot tell you what an honor—Lady Sera, our good
wishes for joy and happiness. All of us in town, we’re ever so
pleased.”
Sera, helpless against such kindness, could only give her
thanks in what she hoped was a gracious tone of voice. She
stood at the cutting table, leaving all the decisions to Andre and
Katherine. Everything was moving too quickly, and she was
filled with such uncertainty.
She vaguely heard the sound of the shop’s bell behind her
and turned her head to see who had entered. A man shut the
door, his back to her, a gray cloak covering his broad shoulders.
Then he turned, and she saw his long blond braid hanging well
below his shoulders. He fingered a piece of silk laid on the
front counter and Sera froze. The man looked directly into her
eyes.
Jacob Augustus had come at last. She wanted to run to him,
throw her arms around him, and ask him a million questions.
But Jacob gave a swift glance sideways at her two companions
and their guards. He bent again to the material, his dear, calm
face perusing the frivolous ribbons as though they were the most
important things in the world.
Jacob looked up a moment later and held her gaze. He
nodded once and turned, leaving the shop. The bell trilled, the
only proof that Jacob had, indeed, been there. She knew he’d
be able to find her. She need only get away. Her hands trembled
as she lifted the brocade to touch its delicate flowered pattern.
“This will do nicely, I think,” she said. Her voice sounded
breathless to her own ears. Andre gave her a strange look, but
she was too filled with new joy, new worries, to care. “And the
lace for the veil. That will be lovely. Shall we return to the
palace? It’s a beautiful day, and I haven’t ridden for such a long
time.”
“But I thought we’d stop at Mrs. Torville’s,” protested
Katherine. “I purposely ate only a piece of toast for breakfast,
anticipating a cream puff. Could you not put off the ride until
later this afternoon?”
“I have an excellent idea,” said Sera, mad with the need to
see Jacob again. “Why not send me back to the palace in a
carriage? Then you and Andre can go on for pastry.”
“That will not do at all,” said Andre quite firmly. “I shall
accompany you both to the palace. Then perhaps Katherine and
I will return to town.”
“Thank you so much, Monsieur Carlsohnn,” Sera said,
gathering her reticule and gloves. “We must leave, now. Ready,
Katherine? Here, let me help you with your cloak.” Her fingers
managed the buttons, even shaking a little.
She walked beside Katherine wishing they had taken the
carriage, hating the time passing before she could see Jacob
again. She cursed the Outlander rules that made her run back to
her room and change into a riding habit before she could mount
Wind Rider and head into the park to find him.
The park, on this bleak December day, was deserted. As
Sera rode up the gentle rise far from the stables, she saw Jacob
Augustus standing beside Lightning, his mount, a few hundred
feet ahead. She didn’t have to nudge Wind Rider forward. He
whinnied once at the bay horse that had been his companion
and sped toward him in a pounding gallop. They surged up the
rise where Jacob waited and Sera came to a halt before him,
jumping from Wind Rider and throwing her arms about his neck.
“Oh, I have despaired of ever seeing you again. How is it
that only now you’ve come? Did you know where I was from
the beginning?”
“Grandfather wouldn’t let me come until those vermin
attacked you.”
Sera lowered her eyes. “Does he hate me, then, for being
such a fool?”
Jacob hugged her again. “No, of course not. He will explain
everything to you as soon as I get you home.”
“Home? But I—I can’t go home, Jacob.”
He looked at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted two
heads. “You cannot be happy here, Sera. They are so stupid, so
venal. Why, I have been here for less than a day, and I cannot
breathe in their foul city.”
“It is better than many others, Jacob, and Nicholas will on
ly
make it better as time goes on,” she said, stung by his criticism.
“Nicholas is such a good man. You would like him. Grandfather
would like him. Come, you must meet him. We can help him so
much.”
Jacob gave her a piercing look. “You have allowed yourself
to become… involved with this Outlander king, haven’t you?”
She squared her shoulders. “I love him, Jacob.”
“Love. An Outlander word. Oh, gods, it’s as bad as it was
with your mother.”
Why was everything going so badly? She had been so
happy, and now Jacob was growing angry and shocked by her
new loyalties, as well. “Do not be so certain we Arkadians know
everything. There are things we have lost in order to keep
harmony amongst ourselves,” Sera said quietly.
Jacob gave her an impatient look and said, “We have no
time to quarrel. The thief has come to Montanyard. If you wish
to keep the cliffs open, we must find his lodgings and go to
him. Together, we can persuade him to give us the Heart of
Fire.”
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, Jacob, if the cliffs will stay open, I
can return. I can bring Nicholas and Katherine. You would see
then that there are good things about these Outlanders.”
He gave her an abrupt nod. “The city is filled with frivolous,
demanding aristocrats who come and go through the palace gate.
Return your horse to the stable and slip away. I shall meet you
beyond the gate, and we shall go to his inn to retrieve the ruby.”
“Yes,” she said and mounted Wind Rider, turning one last
time to plead with him. “Jacob, come now to the palace with
me. You could meet them, help them. Please.”
He shook his head. “My only concern is to bring you home
safe. If that means retrieving the Heart of Fire with you, I shall
do so. But that is all. I plan to leave the Outlanders to their
tantrums and their self-destruction, Sera. And you will wish to
do the same, after you have been back with your people and
used right reason again.”
***
Anatole Galerien paced in his study. His hands were on
fire, his stomach was tied in so many knots that he could no
longer eat or drink without pain. The door swung open gently,
and Count Laslow stood before him, only his eyes visible above
the black cape. Laslow seemed more and more a specter, but
the king no longer cared with what kind of man he dealt. He
was too furious at the cursed luck of his enemies.
“Why didn’t you bring me the girl’s head? It was a simple
matter, from the dispatches I have read.”
Laslow inclined his head. “A blizzard sprang up in the midst
of the battle.”
“What battle?” screamed Galerien. “There were two of them
against ten of yours—isn’t that correct?”
“Rostov carried firearms. He picked my men off as they
attacked. And then no one could see a thing. The two men left
almost froze to death, but luck was with them. They chanced
upon a farmhouse and disposed of the family living there.”
“So they ate and drank while Rostov and the girl returned
to the palace.”
“They were surrounded by a squadron of cavalry. But the
thief has arrived in Montanyard. Tonight is the eve of a palace
ball ushering in the Christmas Season. With all the confusion,
my men have had no trouble slipping into Montanyard. Even
as we speak, they are at the thief’s inn. You’ll have the ruby and
the location of the cliffs into Arkadia shortly. You can deal with
the other two after you have conquered Arkadia. Unless, of
course, you wish to end your association with us?”
Something about the rasp of Laslow’s hollow voice gave
Galerien pause. He had fed this band of cutthroats until they
were an army. Should they turn against him, he would never
sleep safe in his bed again.
“No. Bring me the ruby, and I’ll make you my representative
on the throne of Laurentia, just as I promised.”
“Very well.” Laslow bowed and turned to go.
“Count.” Galerian said, and Laslow turned again to face
him.
“In a few days, you are to stage an all-out attack on Laurentia
while I take the army to Arkadia. Gather your men together at
the base. Begin to plan the details.”
“No,” Laslow said. “There’s a chance that the base has been
discovered. I must diversify our troops, not call them together
in one place.”
Galerien knew that the time had come to use the secret
weapon he held over the count. “I have a list with the names of
every man you have recruited. If you don’t obey me, I shall rid
myself of every member of your organization, and his family,
as well. Think carefully. Which will it be? A little courage now
will gain you a throne.”
Laslow’s eyes were cold as ice. Galerien fought against the
shudder that threatened to course through him, standing tall and
narrowing his own eyes into a look that meant instant death.
“Very well,” said Laslow. “Beware that you don’t lose all
in the winning of this point.”
***
Sera crept up the dark, narrow stairway of the Black Bear
after Jacob. The old inn, surrounded by warehouses and
businesses now empty at this late hour, was located near the
posting house at the northwestern outskirts of Montanyard.
“Which way?” she whispered as they reached the third
floor’s uneven landing.
“To the left. The second door down.”
“But the innkeeper told you this man was as thin as a wraith.
That does not sound like the thief.”
“He has been running for the last three months. Constant
terror and uneven meals can change a man.”
They stood before the door. Sera took a deep breath. All
the last months had led to this, finally.
Jacob pushed the door open and walked into the darkened
room. Sera followed at his heels, only to bang into his back
when he suddenly stopped short. She peered over his shoulder
and stared in horror at the scene before her. The thief was
strapped to a chair, covered in blood from wounds all over his
body. Jacob turned and herded her out the door.
“Gods, who would do such a thing to him?” she whispered,
gagging. “His eyes, oh heavens, did you see? They cut out his
eyes.”
“I know, I know.” Jacob had his arm around her, holding
her upright. “From the look of it, they enjoyed their work. Will
you be all right here? I am going back in to see what else I can
find.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said, afraid to remain in the dark,
narrow hall. “If they are hiding behind some doorway, if they
return….”
“No,” said Jacob. “They have been gone for several hours.
Wait for me here. I do not wish you to enter this room again.”
Jacob shut the door after him. She stood alone in the gloom,
growing more fretful as the minutes ticked by. Finally, the door
opened and Jacob ushered he
r down the stairway and out the
front door.
The cold air hit them. Jacob took a deep, angry breath, like
a man in need of cleansing his lungs. “So many against one
man. He must have stolen something here—from a nobleman,
or perhaps a member of the royal family. Is this how your king
conducts an interrogation?”
She felt her spine stiffen. “Nicholas would never treat
another human being that way, not even his worst enemy. It
was the Brotherhood. They have infiltrated Laurentia all the
way to Montanyard. We must help him, Jacob.”
“You are a little fool, Sera.” Jacob steered her into an alcove
where there was some small shelter from the biting wind. “Face
facts. You put Arkadia in danger when you brought the thief
past the cliffs. You rode out into this carnage alone, unschooled
in the arts that would keep you safe. Do you think we can trust
this Rostov with our secrets any more than we could trust
Galerien?”
“He is nothing like Galerien!”
“Look at you, clothed in lace and furs yet shivering in the
freezing wind. You have lived with this corruption for so long,
your judgment is clouded.” Jacob’s eyes burned into her soul.
“Your oath on it, Sera. Not a word to Rostov or any other
Outlander. About the Heart of Fire, about Arkadia, about me.
Do you understand me? On your sacred honor, not a word.”
Sera shook her head numbly. “You cannot know what you
ask, or you would never ask it.”
Jacob’s face was stern and implacable. “The oath, Sera, for
the good of your country.”
The blood seemed to seep from her veins, leaving her
insubstantial as a dead leaf hanging by a thread from a bare
branch. She took a deep breath. “By the gods and the sacred
One they represent, I shall never break trust in these matters
even under threat of death, imprisonment, or loss of all that is
dear to me.” The formal words that had kept Arkadia safe in
times of upheaval came out in a bare whisper.
Jacob nodded, and his expression softened. “You will come
with me tomorrow, safe and warm in a plain gray Hill cloak.”
“I cannot leave them.” She felt her soul rip itself in two and
almost cried out with the pain of it.
“Listen to me. The Heart of Fire is gone. In little more than
a week, the cliffs will close for good. I shall not argue this matter