A Man Betrayed

by J. V. Jones

  Quickly he looked over to Melli. She was sitting down. The duke was on one side of her, Maybor on the other. She looked tired and a little shaky. As he watched, her father poured her a cup of red wine. With little ceremony, she raised it to her lips and downed it in one. Tawl smiled. Melli was her usual self.

  Still, he had the nagging feeling that something had nearly happened here. Something had passed between Catherine and Baralis. A communication, a warning. And by the looks of it, it had been promptly heeded. In the space of a few seconds, Catherine had changed from a woman about to fall into an anger-driven trance to a self-possessed lady of the court. What had Baralis said to her to bring about such a change? And what would have happened if he had said nothing at all?

  Tawl's mind traveled back five years to the very first time he'd met Bevlin. That evening was the only time the wiseman had ever spoken openly about sorcery to him. "Yes, there are those who still practice," he had said, "most think it would be better if they didn't. " Was Catherine one of those? Was Baralis? The night he fought the duke's champion, he had felt something working against him, weakening his will, sapping his strength. Catherine had been Blayze's lover. Had she used sorcery to aid his cause that night?

  Tawl ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't be sure. All he had to go on was a dangerously blank look in Catherine's eyes and his own intuition. It should have been enough, though. Tawl was appalled at himself-ignorance was no excuse. He should have gotten Melli out of there. To hell with humiliating Catherine!

  He brought his eye close to the slit once more. Melli was sitting at the head of the table. She was putting on an excellent show: eating, drinking, laughing, flirting with Lord Cravin whilst playfully reprimanding the duke about the lack of hot food. She was very brave and very strong. After such an unpleasant incident, most women would have run crying to their rooms. Not Melli. It would take more than bitter words to crush her spirit. Tawl noticed that her left hand was absent from view. Following the line of her arm down, he saw that under the table she was grasping a very tight hold of her father's hand. Her knuckles were white with the strain. Tawl became very still looking at the sight of Melli's small pale hand. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

  As he withdrew from the curtain, he noticed that Baralis was no longer in his seat. He hadn't even seen him leave. Yet he could guess where he was headed. Satisfied that Melli would be safe for a while, Tawl stole down along the corridor. Cutting through the kitchens to the main gallery, he worked his way back toward the hall. As he drew close to the main door, he noticed the black-robed figure of Baralis heading off in the distance. Tawl followed him. The man knew the palace like the back of his hand. Taking turnings Tawl had never noticed, climbing staircases that were hidden by either curtains or shadows. Eventually they came to part of the palace Tawl recognized: the ladies' quarters. He watched from a stone recess as Baralis approached a set of bronzecovered double doors. He did not have to knock. The doors swung back and Catherine stood waiting. Hair loose and wearing a gown that revealed her naked shoulders, she beckoned Baralis to enter.

  Tawl turned as the door closed behind them. With a heavy step, he made his way back to the great hall. In the morning, when the duke summoned him to give his account of the evening, what should he say? He took a deep breath and was slow to let it out. How could he tell the duke that his greatest enemy might turn out to be his own daughter?

  THIRTY-THREE

  For two days now, Jack had been walking across land that was both more populated and less flat. He was not happy about either. Walking downhill was fine; sometimes he even broke into a run, but uphill ... Jack shook his head. Uphill was an entirely different matter. His thighs were sore, his knees were playing up, even his ankles were acting strangely, refusing to allow his feet to pivot properly, causing him pain with every step. If he were ever called upon to design a world, it would be downhill all the way.

  Jack's main problem, however, was people. He just couldn't seem to avoid them any longer. The roads were packed with them, the fields were full of them, and the woods had grown so sparse that he was now forced to dash from tree to tree like a spider in search of shade. The one certain way to attract attention, Jack had discovered, was to run across fields in search of cover. He had been chased by two farmers with pitchforks, one dog, and an entire flock of geese. The geese were the worst, honking loudly and taking vicious pecks at his vitals. He'd rather be attacked by a dog any day.

  Hearing a cart rattling by, Jack dived to the ground. He was just off a large road that was hedged on either side by bushes and bracken. Instead of carrying on, the cart lurched to a slow stop. Jack drew in his breath. Had the driver spotted him? Body flat against the ground, Jack lay as still as he could manage. He heard the soft pad of feet in the dirt, and then the bushes next to him began to move. They continued to rustle for some time. Jack assumed that the driver was relieving himself and so decided to stay put. Just when the rustling stopped, and he felt safe to release his breath, the bushes parted and a man stepped through. He had a basket in one hand and a scythe in the other. Seeing Jack, he stopped in his tracks.

  Up came the scythe. "Young man," he said, in a pleasant, lilting voice, "if your intention is to rob me, I warn you now that I have nothing but herbs in my basket. And nothing but mushrooms in my cart." He smiled brightly. "Poisonous ones, at that."

  Stunned, Jack stayed exactly where he was. The scythe was just about the deadliest-looking thing he had ever seen. The man noted what he was looking at. "For the herbs, you know."

  Jack decided to speak. "Sir, I am sorry to catch you unawares. I didn't mean to frighten you." He tried to keep his words muffled to disguise where he came from.

  The man smiled more broadly than ever. He was of middle height and had shoulder-length gray hair. Not exactly old, yet past middle age. With a casual gesture, he hooked the scythe onto his belt. "First of all, young man, you did not surprise me in the least; secondly, as I've been aware of your presence since before I stopped my cart, you most definitely did not catch me unawares."

  Jack risked sitting up. He brushed the dirt from his face and chest. "You saw me duck into the bushes?"

  The man raised his hand to his clean-shaven chin. "You could say that." From his chin, his hand sprang forward. "I'm Stillfox, pleased to meet you."

  Gingerly, Jack took the proffered hand. With a grip as firm as a man half his age, he heaved Jack off the ground. "Find any interesting herbs while you were down there?" Stillfox asked, eyes twinkling.

  Jack shrugged.

  He lifted his hand up and examined his palm. "Of course you didn't. What would a lad from the kingdoms know about Annis herbs, eh?"

  Jack pulled back his hand.

  Stillfox laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not a fortune-teller. Your palm didn't tell me that, your accent did."

  Feeling very foolish, Jack mumbled his apologies. Too many things had happened for him to take in at once. He could hardly believe he was in Annis, for one thing. Oh, he'd seen the mountains looming up on the horizon for days now, but he'd paid them little heed, thinking they were impossibly far away in the distance. For the past two days the clouds had been so thick that he hadn't seen the mountains at all. Had he really come that far? Or was it far at all? All the time he'd stayed in Rovas' cottage, he had no idea where it lay in relation to the rest of Halcus. He had been close to the border for months and not even known it; yet another thing Tarissa had kept from him.

  It made sense now: the garrison was situated where it was-in what he had assumed to be the middle of nowhere -to protect the Halcus-Annis border. Even Rovas' smuggling business would benefit from closeness to the great trading center. "How far are we from the city?" he asked. Stillfox was busy searching his basket. He didn't look up. "Annis is twelve leagues to the east. A good morning's ride, or a full day's walk." Pulling out some rather drylooking pieces of bark, he cried, "Aha! I knew I had some."

  "Some what?"

  "Willow bark for yo
ur fever, and witch hazel to clean out your wound."

  Jack's hand stole to his chest. "But--"

  "I can smell the fester," said Stillfox, answering his question before he had even asked it. "It needs seeing to, lad. It's a wonder you've got this far."

  "You don't know how far I've come." Jack was surprised by the sharpness of his tone. His thoughts were on the garrison. He had to be careful; he didn't want this man knowing where he'd come from. Everyone in Annis must have heard about the fire by now.

  Stillfox smiled briskly. "Perhaps not, but I do know where you're going."

  Jack looked directly into his eyes. He was older than he'd first thought. There were thick bands of black around the blue of his irises. "Where am I going?" he asked.

  Stillfox blinked once. "Home with me." It wasn't the answer he expected. "Why?"

  "You will not come unless I tell you?"

  "No."

  Nodding heavily, he said. "Very well. From the moment I put my cart on the road this morning, I sensed your trail in the air. I simply urged my horse forward and followed it here."

  "What trail?" Even as he asked, Jack knew he wouldn't like the answer.

  "Sorcery, lad." Gone was the brightness from Stillfox's face. "You are carrying the vestiges of your last drawing along with you."

  Jack knew the color drained from his face, but could do nothing to stop it. He began to move forward. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's time I moved on."

  Stillfox caught his arm. His grip was not gentle. "Don't be a fool, lad. You need help, and I'm offering to give it. It would be most unwise to turn me down." The lilting tones had been replaced by a low and forceful voice.

  Jack pulled himself free. "And who are you to decide what's wise and unwise?"

  Stillfox gave Jack a hard look. "I'm someone who knows that Annis is crawling with Halcus soldiers who are busy looking for the man who burned down their garrison."

  Rovas had told them where he was headed! Jack kicked at the dirt. Tarissa had asked him where he was going, and he'd replied east. She could have guessed he would head to the very place where they had planned to go together. Jack wondered how long it had taken her to decide to tell Rovas.

  Obviously not very long, for the Halcus were now ahead of him.

  Jack glanced sideways at Stillfox. How could he be sure this man spoke the truth? And what exactly did he know about the garrison? "I have nothing to fear from the Halcus," he said.

  "They have posted descriptions of the man they're after all over the city. Tall, brown haired, speaks with a kingdoms accent." Stillfox gave Jack a hard look. "Annis and Halcus are very friendly at the moment-seems they'll soon be fighting on the same side-and there's nothing Annis wouldn't do to help her would-be ally. Nothing would delight her more than turning over a notorious war criminal."

  "War criminal?" Jack didn't even bother to keep the surprise from his voice.

  Stillfox nodded. "Kylock has just reached Helch. The garrison that was destroyed was due to send troops and supplies to aid the capital. But because all the provisions were burned and so many men were injured, the transfer never went ahead. Some are saying it was that one inspired act of sabotage that gave Kylock the edge. I don't know if that's true or not, but one thing's certain: Helch will be surrendering soon. Very soon."

  Jack's blood ran cold. Was there no end to his crimes? A deep pit opened up in his thoughts, but he refused to look into it. Lined with his own guilt, it threatened to take him downward to prophecy and torment. He would not go there. He spoke to distract his thoughts, and then found he had not distracted them at all, rather refined them. "Kylock will win the war." Intended as a question, it turned to a statement upon his lips.

  Stillfox's hand came back down upon his arm. "Come with me. I swear no harm will befall you whilst you stay under my roof."

  There seemed to be more than pressure in the old man's grip. Jack drew strength and calmness from it. The pit closed and he was no longer afraid, just confused. "Why would you help me?" he asked.

  Even as he answered, Stillfox began to guide him toward the road. "I help you because I recognize my own."

  The lilt returned to the man's voice, and Jack wondered for an instant if it was to disguise the trace of ambiguity in his words.

  "Ssh!" hissed Stillfox, before he could speak. There were riders on the road, and they crouched down in the bushes until they had passed. Once the road was clear, Still fox urged him forward. Heading for the back of the cart, he pulled up the oil cloth. "Under here. Quick." Jack slid under the oil cloth. The cart smelled of mold. Stillfox tucked him in and then made his way to the front. Taking up the reins, he whispered, "Feel free to eat the mushrooms. I was lying when I said they were poisonous."

  Tawl watched as the duke approached. His Grace had originally wanted to meet in Melli's chambers, but Tawl did not want to risk Melli overhearing what he had to say. So they had arranged to meet here, in the ladies' courtyard.

  "Well met, friend," said the duke, coming forward to clasp his hand. "Last night went well, did it not?"

  "Mel-" Tawl stopped himself. "Your lady conducted herself with strength and grace."

  The duke nodded. "She was magnificent, wasn't she?" He paused a moment, obviously well pleased. "Her father was brilliant, too. He won more hearts by dashing over to his daughter and weeping, than he could ever have done by giving away his gold. I couldn't have planned it better."

  For some reason, what the duke said annoyed Tawl. "Have you heard the news from Helch yet?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  "No. I've been spending all morning seeing lord after relieved lord. Last night's announcement has certainly made the court rest easier in their beds."

  "Kylock has broken Helch's defenses. He's made it inside the city, and now there're only the castle walls between him and certain victory."

  The duke drew a quick breath. His hand fell to his sword. "Damn him! When did this happen?"

  "Two days back."

  "Castle Helch is a mighty fortress. A decent army could defend it for months."

  "You forget that Kylock has inside knowledge. The knights have been feeding him information about Helch's defenses. That's probably how he managed to break through the city walls so fast."

  The duke grunted. "This is ill news indeed." He turned his back on Tawl and began to pace around the courtyard. After a few moments, he spun around. "The sooner I marry Melliandra, the better. I told the court I intended to marry her within a month, but I can't risk waiting that long. I must disassociate both Bren and myself from what Kylock is doing to Helch. The moment that city falls, Highwall and Annis will be up in arms, and if they think, even for one instant, that Kylock will one day rule this city, they won't hesitate to move against us."

  "By tonight they will all know of your intentions to marryg."

  "Intentions are no longer enough. Right now I need Melliandra wedded and pregnant. Only then will Bren be safe."

  Tawl knew the duke was right. He didn't like the way he spoke of Melli, though. "The lady herself may be in danger."

  "What d'you mean?"

  "I think Lord Baralis will make an attempt on Melliandra's life in the next few days. Last night I watched him at the banquet. He did not look pleased." As he spoke, Tawl wondered what, if anything, he should say about Catherine. "I have reason to believe he might try an attempt on her life." He found he couldn't bring himself to tell the duke that his daughter could be plotting against him. He hurried on, not giving the man a chance to question his reasoning. "So the quicker you marry the lady, the better. It will be a lot easier to keep her safe once she takes up residence in your chambers."

  "Yes." The duke nodded slowly. "Just this morning I received the blessing from the clergy. They have no objection, so I am free to marry her when I choose. Of course everyone will expect me to wait a couple of weeks."

  "It would be better if the marriage ceremony was a discreet one," said Tawl.

  "You are right." The duke p
ulled his sword from his belt. He began to inspect the blade, holding it up to catch the sunlight. "Perhaps it would be better if we kept the ceremony secret and only announced it the following day, by which time it would be too late for anyone's objections." Finding the blade sound, he slipped it back in its loop. "And there will be nothing that Lord Baralis or the court can do about it."

  Although Tawl knew it was for the best, there was a part of him that didn't want the wedding to go ahead too soon. Perhaps not even at all. He had started to care about Melli, and it angered him to see how casually the duke manipulated her for his own political ends. Tawl had no choice but to keep these feelings well hidden; his first loyalty was to the duke.

  "Can any legitimate objections be raised to a secret wedding?"

  "Not if all the proper clergy, the archbishop, and enough respected witnesses are in place," replied the duke. "My great-grandfather wed a girl in secret. She was a lowly lord's daughter and he, by that time, was well into his dotage. Everyone protested. The whole city was up in arms for months, but no one could annul the marriage because it was done with the Church's blessing."

  "So there is a precedent?"

  "Yes." The duke smiled thinly. "Just to make sure of legitimacy, I will order Catherine to attend."

  This was the last thing Tawl wanted. The moment Catherine knew about the wedding, she would go running to Baralis. Tawl chose his words carefully. "Your daughter was very upset last night. She might do something irrational."

  The duke made a dismissive gesture with his arm. "Do not be worried about her girlish tantrum. It was nothinghurt pride, that's all. It was to be her evening and I stole her thunder." He turned his back on Tawl. "I can hardly blame her, really."

  "So you intend to tell her of your marriage plans?"