His gaze wandered to Gryffon and Layna as they tried to inconspicuously make their way to the door. Layna felt as though the sweat at the mention of the ‘two renegades’ had to be evident on the back of her tunic, and would surely give her away. The younger guard's gaze lingered on them, and then he glanced back at the paper he was holding. His brows creased and he raised his eyes to them once more. He opened his mouth to speak.
Gryffon cut him off before he could say anything. “Well, it was a pleasure talking with you, my good sir. I most certainly will take you up on your very generous offer next time we are in town. But for now, we'll take our leave of you as it seems you are just about on your way out as well.” He gave a quick little bow and then put a hand under Layna's elbow, leading her out.
As they hurried away, they could hear the younger guard telling the older one that they looked an awfully lot like the people they were supposed to be watching for, but the older one scoffed at him. “I just spent the last ten minutes talking to him. He's no spy, and she's too pretty to be. Besides, it's the end of my shift...”
Layna and Gryffon didn’t wait around for them to finish their discussion, but rather high-tailed it out of the city as fast as they could as soon as they were out of range of the guard station. “That was close,” Gryffon stated as he reined Axe closer to her when they slowed upon reaching the woods with no sign of pursuit.
“Tell me about it,” Layna said, “I thought I was going to start dripping sweat I was so worried. Good thing you hit it off with everyone you meet - or least all the hunters,” she teased him and he laughed.
“What can I say? I can spot a hunter a mile away, and we hunters understand each other.” He winked at her. She breathed a sigh of relief, letting out the tension that had been waiting to be released.
CHAPTER 28
A knock sounded at the door, and Jezebel called out permission for the person to enter. Devon slipped through the entrance, wincing slightly as his side bumped up against the door frame, and she greeted him with a smile. “Ah, Devon. Do you come bearing news?”
“Indeed, my lady – Councilor-” he affirmed. “I have news about the King.”
Jezebel sat forward excitedly. “Yes?”
“Well, it was very difficult to dig up anything on his past, and so far it doesn't seem to be anything particularly worthwhile. I figured that you'd want to know everything you could about him, no matter how small the detail seems to me. With your intellect you may see more into it.” Jezebel smiled more broadly at this compliment, and nodded for him to go on. “Apparently, the King was raised by the late Baron Asheron who was the second cousin twice removed of our late King Edward. The Baron was instrumental in bringing Edward’s parents’ murderers to justice which gained him a large amount of support within the royal family. Nathair’s mother is a woman of low enough birth that I could find no record of her before the marriage, who somehow found herself into the baron's household, and then made herself his wife after his lady died. That, I suppose,” he inserted, “could make some men embarrassed enough to not want the information leaked, but since she was given honorary lady’s status by the baron, then again it may not. He grew up in the backwoods and was taught several ways of fighting. When he showed some skill at magic, he was sent to be trained in the rudimentary uses. There is no record of him having attended any of the additional classes that are offered. His mother died when he was in his teens – the Baron seemed to have some bad luck with women – and as he grew older, he joined his father's guard and that is where he gained his name in the battlefield, fighting off the bandits to the west. All in all, he has a pretty clean record of what we've been able to uncover so far, though there are quite large portions of his life that I have been unable to account for. I shall continue my work as ever, and report back to you accordingly, my lady. As for the mission your pets are on, my men found the remains of three of the hounds, confirming your impression, but have had no word on the last and no further sign of the renegades.” He gave her a stiff bow and waited for her to dismiss him.
Jezebel nodded slowly, chewing on this new information for a moment. “Thank you, Devon. I trust that the remains were properly disposed of?” Devon gave her a nod and she continued, “Please do see if you can't try and reconstruct the rest of the King's life for me. Excellent work thus far, and I look forward to your report that the final hound has returned victoriously.”
She dismissed him with a wave, and he departed, leaving her to fetch her driver to take her to the palace. She thought it odd that the King had only been trained in the rudimentary uses of magic when he had demonstrated far more power than that statement would imply. It sounded as though his family had not had the money to send him to the optional additional training. But if they didn't, then how did he master its use? For he obviously has. She made a mental note that the King may be hiding more than they realized if he so modestly presented his powers that were, in reality, much more dangerous than he made them seem. She almost immediately admonished herself, however, as of course the King was an expert in subversion. He had, after all, maneuvered himself into a position of great power both in the Order and in the kingdom. A position which Jezebel planned to soon take from him as her own.
Back in her suite at the palace, Jezebel was surprised to see a letter with her father's seal waiting for her. She picked it up and glared at it for a moment before sliding a nail through the wax, and unfolding the contents. It was a lengthy letter, one that got her more and more inflamed the more she read of it.
He started off pleasant enough, congratulating her once more on her new position. But then went on to berate the seat, saying that she would be foolish to believe that having a seat on the Council would give her any real power. It implied that there was much more going on here than she could possibly hope to even understand. Basically it says I'm too stupid to follow the intrigues going on, and therefore I should just do whatever he tells me to in the notes that I'll soon be receiving regularly and by referencing the files he gave me.
She ripped the note into a thousand tiny pieces and tossed it into the air, igniting it mid-fall with the power. It gave her a small tug and she felt momentarily weak after doing so. She felt a flash of annoyance. She had been surprised to learn that oftentimes the use of smaller amounts of the power was actually more draining when used for things that required detail. So, for example, lighting each torn piece could potentially be more draining than, say, a huge fireball hurled out, which took pure power but very little focus on detail. How can Father still think that he can control me? Can't he tell that his bond over me has been broken?
She had thought that once she gained the seat that he would see just how powerful she was, but not only had he not lost that smug smile of superiority, but he had even had the gall to try and use her with magic. Jezebel found it displeasing that there was an aspect of blood-magic that could be used against her without her knowledge simply because she and her father shared ties of kinship.
Jezebel snorted her irritation and shook herself, trying to brush off the effect of the letter. The King had said that he would be punished; she simply must be patient and see what he had in mind. She walked to the window and looked out over the maze of gardens beneath her balcony. It wasn’t long before she returned to her desk, however, to write to Devon. Patience was not her strong suit, and she decided that perhaps she’d set Devon to the task of arranging a little something for her father in the meantime as well.
She opened the door to have one of the servants go and fetch Devon from the manor for her, and found that he was already on his way towards her, coming down the hallway looking excited. She held the door to the suite open for him and he squeezed by. “I have news of the renegades,” he told her without preamble as soon as the door was safely closed.
“What is it?”
“A guardsman in Avonmora filled out a complaint against a superior officer for letting two people go who matched the description that we had sent out. It sounds like the older man
was due to be off-duty and dismissed the younger officer's assertion that they should detain the couple longer.” Jezebel’s eyes flashed with anger at the use of the word 'couple', and Devon seemed to sense her mood change as he did not pause to give her a chance to act upon it. “They very well could be the two traitors we are looking for. It is very near the town where the travelers were spotted being followed by the hounds.”
Jezebel took a deep breath. “That would mean, however, that the hound has thus far failed.” She had thought as much. After the initial backlash of power, no amount of questing would allow her to connect with the last beast. She should have felt something by now if it had caught up to them, either its death or its victory. “How dare that officer ignore a direct order to detain and question all matching the description, just so he wouldn't have to deal with it.” She sighed irritably. “The whole world is against me. Do we have any idea where they are headed?”
“Happily yes,” Devon acknowledged. “A young man happened to be paying them attention as he found the woman very-” he stopped himself short from using whatever word he had originally planned on and put in instead, “-odd, and he happened to hear them talking about the town called Dunlop.”
Jezebel pursed her lips and thought a moment. “Dunlop? What an absurd name. Where is this town?”
“It is in the North Country, Councilor. It is both the town nearest the Shadowlands, and near where the King is from.”
“I will have to think about this,” she told Devon. “In the meantime, I believe I need to set up a meeting with the other Councilors. Can you arrange that for me?”
“Anything for you, my lady,” he said bowing, and he showed himself out.
This meeting, Jezebel found herself seated and waiting before any of the other Council members arrived. They slowly filed in and took their seats, and several of them gave her looks she couldn't quite place. The last to arrive clarified it for her, however, as he presumptuously rose to speak before her saying, “Lady Jezebel, we are scheduled to have a meeting in three days time, and some of us,” he stressed these words as if trying to brazenly imply that she was not included in this group, “have more important things to do than be called to another of these so-called emergency meetings for yet one more of your trivial matters that really should just wait until we are scheduled to convene.”
Jezebel refused to be derailed, and took his ignorant patronizing in stride. The opinions of lesser people meant nothing to her, and he was about to get a swift kick in his pride anyway. She gave him an amicable smile and said silver-toned, “I just thought that you all would want to know right away that I spoke with the King directly, and he has expressed his wish that I be the speaker for this Council. He is also further elevating my status by giving it a new title of 'First Advisor'. This makes all of you under my direct command and me only answerable to the King himself.”
The man had sat heavily in his seat and all the Councilors were staring at her, some with completely undignified slack-jawed expressions. “But,” one sputtered out, “you can't do that! The whole point of the Council is to keep the balance in check!” The man's voice cracked as it rose hysterically in pitch.
She laughed churlishly at him and beamed. “The King can do anything he wants. And now, so can I. And what I want you all to do right now is gather your personal guard and select the most talented of the bunch to send after the two renegades. It is imperative that they be punished for their betrayal and that an example be made of them for others who would think to betray their country.”
“Others who might betray the country or betray you,” asked the man who had first spoken.
“Examples will have to be made,” she repeated and gave him a hateful stare until he paled and looked away uncomfortably. She dismissed them after giving more detailed orders of what she wanted done, and then took a deep breath, admiring her surroundings. Things were going quite nicely her way.
CHAPTER 29
Layna muttered the word she had just memorized and reached for the power gently, gasping in delight as a tiny globe of water appeared before her. Though the word itself didn’t make or break the spell, it helped to focus the energy properly. Gryffon was doing his best to continue her training, despite the risk of detection. They decided that having her be able to use it at this point would outweigh the cost of possibly sending out ripples in the power to those who might be following them. He was going through the basic elements, and then branching out to show her how to use these elements in different ways. Although he told her that after her display with the hounds, he wasn't sure he was really qualified to be teaching her anything. He was significantly impressed by the power she managed to handle without difficulty, but warned her and sometimes even more importantly than the actual amount of power, was the ingenuity of the power-wielder. Oftentimes you could achieve the same results by a more precise application of power rather than simply using raw energy to try and accomplish a feat.
Layna spoke again and the water crystallized before smashing to the ground beneath her in a spattering of ice. “Oh!” she exclaimed.
Gryffon rebuked her. “Remember to account for the differences in weight, density, and such when changing the characteristics.”
Layna brushed her hair away from her face and bit back a nasty comment. He was only trying to help. Gryffon reached a hand up and held her hair away from her neck, inspecting the place she knew she had a mark. Layna looked at him curiously. “Yes?”
Gryffon scrunched up his forehead, and leaned closer to her. “That mark on your neck, it's growing darker. It's definitely much more pronounced than it was at first.”
Layna looked worriedly at him. “You don't think it means anything bad do you?”
Gryffon shrugged noncommittally. “I honestly don't know what it is, but if it does have to do with the Dark King, maybe it's growing darker simply because we are getting closer to his ancient lair.”
“That's not very comforting,” Layna told him with a meek smile, but didn't comment further. “How's your own mark doing?” she asked him.
He shrugged again. “Still hurts, but I'll live.” He returned her smile with one of his own, and the two of them sat contemplating their dual scars.
A figure suddenly came bounding out of the woods and sprinted towards Layna. Gryffon jumped to draw his knife, but paused when a familiar voice called out, “Hold!”
Charles came running out after the figure, which was now skipping excitedly around Layna, trying to lick her face while she pushed it off, laughing. It was the hound she had freed from its compulsion, and it looked as though freedom agreed with it. It still had a rather unearthly quality about it, but now it reminded Layna more of a dog than something she would term a beast.
Gryffon was still eyeing the hound warily, but Charles came up beside them and assured him, “I'd been tracking ‘im for a while when suddenly he just stopped runnin’ and turned to face me. He just sat right there while I walked up to it with my knife drawn and all and waited to see what I'd do. He let me pet him on the head, and since then he's acted just like a dog. He can even play fetch, and I've been hunting with him. He learns very quickly.”
Gryffon lowered his weapon cautiously as Layna sat on her haunches to better scratch the hound which had rolled over so that she could reach its belly. Its tongue lolled out its open mouth, and even the razor sharp teeth seemed less intimidating in the goofy pose it was in to get a better rub-down. “It seems that whatever you did, my lady, you cured him from his evil,” Charles said respectfully to Layna, giving her a small nod.
Layna surveyed him curiously, Charles had called her many things, but never 'my lady' and she wondered at the change. They filled Charles in on what they had found out in Avonmora, and he agreed to accompany them towards Dunlop, though declining to go into the town with them. He had no desire to visit such an evil place, he told them.
“You two are becomin’ awfully popular you know,” he told them seriously. He described the wanted posters he had seen in
different towns, and the several big brawny men asking questions about them.
“I guess we'll be taking game trails, and not getting to stop at any inns,” Gryffon said regretfully.
“Maybe you shouldn' go into any towns at all,” said Charles, “not even Dunlop. Your demon lady seems to have a monomania over the two o' youse. I know a place up north we could go and you'd be safe. Your demon lady would never find you there, and you could finally get away from her miasma.”
“No,” Gryffon disagreed, “we need to go to Dunlop, and then afterwards we'll figure out what to do next. Thank you for the offer though.”
Charles just nodded his acceptance of the thanks and didn't press the matter, to Layna's relief. She wasn't sure that her resolve to go all the way to Dunlop would hold, knowing that Jezebel had everyone under the sun after them, if someone tried to persuade her otherwise. Jezebel must be doing some serious crying to her father to get the funding for such an undertaking.
After a moment Charles put in, “Well, if you're dead set on it anyway, at least do somethin’ ‘bout your looks. What with all the wanted posters galore with your likenesses plastered all over. Them burlies are getting' all corybantic over you people.”
When the two men went out hunting, Layna gathered together some of the herbs for spicing the meat that in the spring weather were starting to poke out through last year's dead grass. She then set to work finding a berry that Mila had once mentioned to her in passing. Layna marveled at her memory of such a seemingly insignificant piece of information, but was glad that she did remember it.
Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) Page 25
