Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy (48 page)

Robin led them on a circular route as they descended the ridge, coming at the mansion through the trees where they left Rienne. As they rode through the wreckage of the shanty town, Taran sensed no hostile eyes.

The mansion’s massive gates and the postern gate at the side were shut.

“Let’s try the polite approach,” said Robin. Bull gestured for him to go ahead.

Up to the huge gates he rode and with the pommel of his sword thumped loudly on the wood. “Open up, messenger for Count Marik.”

Taran didn’t expect a response and for a moment there was none, but then he heard the bolts of the postern being drawn. Robin leaped from his horse and Bull did likewise. As the door was pushed ajar from within, the big man grasped it in powerful hands, heaving it fully open. Robin had his sword to the guard’s throat before the startled man had time to react.

Yelling for Taran and Cal to follow, Bull slipped past the gate. They dismounted and drew their weapons, edging through behind him. Two more guards dashed out of a small guard house to help their comrade.

“Taran, Cal and I will take care of these two, you go and see if there are any more,” shouted Bull.

Sprinting toward the guard house, Taran ignored the sounds of combat behind him and slipped quietly through the door. The building was deserted. Re-emerging, he saw that Robin had tied his man securely and was helping Cal and Bull, neither of whom seemed under pressure. Swiftly, he looked around, identifying the mansion’s entrance as the only other possible source of danger. He ran around the courtyard, keeping out of the direct line of sight of the open doorway, and sidled along the wall until he could see into the passage beyond. It was clear.

He jumped through the doorway and listened intently in the pale light of a few tallow torches. There was nothing to hear or sense. When he turned back to the others, two of the guards lay bleeding their last on the slick cobbles and Robin was menacing his prisoner, trying to make the demon tell him if there was anyone else inside.

The guard stayed defiantly silent, staring at Robin through pale, slitted eyes, until Bull came up behind him and casually sliced off an ear lobe. The demon’s agonized shriek echoed around the courtyard.

“Where’s the Count?” repeated Robin.

“Gone,” rasped the demon, blood streaming down his neck.

“Gone where?” yelled Robin.

Bull laid his dagger beneath the guard’s other ear and the demon flinched, sweat beading his face. “They’ve gone to Kymer,” he spat. “They left two weeks ago.”

Robin and Bull stared at each other.

“Kymer?” said the Captain. “That’s Rykan’s province.” He turned back to the guard and shook him roughly. “Are you telling me Rykan came back for the council meeting?”

Despite his pain, the guard smiled wolfishly. “He never really left. There was a tasty morsel here he fancied.”

Robin stamped furiously on his arm and the demon grunted in pain.

“I knew we shouldn’t have left her here,” raged Robin. “If Marik’s betrayed her, I’ll slice out his heart. The gods know what’s become of her now. Curse Blaine for recalling us too soon.”

Bull frowned. “Calm down, Robin, getting angry won’t help us. We don’t know this is Marik’s doing. And if Rykan’s that enamored of her, he’s not going to do her any harm.”

They became aware of a rasping sound. It was the demon guard laughing at them as he bled. “No lasting harm?” he wheezed. “She’ll be dead by now if I know Lord Rykan. He’ll have had what he wanted of her ten times over. There will be no stopping him now.”

Taran gasped and Bull wasn’t quick enough to prevent the enraged Robin from running the guard through the throat with his sword, grounding the weapon on the cobbles. He leaned on it, panting as the demon’s life bubbled out. Finally, he jerked it out of the bloody flesh and wiped it clean on the body. Bull stared in disapproval, hands planted on his hips.

“What?” said Robin.

“What the hell did you kill him for? How are we going to find her now? Do you know where Rykan’s palace is? We can’t search the whole of Andaryon for her.”

“He deserved it. I wasn’t going to listen to any more of that.”

“You should have walked away! We’ll have to waste more time now.”

Robin spun on him. “You heard what he said. He’ll have killed her.”

“Shut up, you idiot, and think for a minute. We know she was alive the day before yesterday, don’t we? Why should that suddenly change? What did he mean by Rykan being unstoppable now? Doesn’t that imply he wants her for a reason? Something to do with his plans to challenge the Hierarch, if Sully was right. And you know she wouldn’t surrender without a fight. Come on Robin, don’t write her off so easily.”

Voices by the gate tore Taran’s attention away. Rienne had arrived, presumably following Cal’s all-clear signal. She was none too pleased to find three dead bodies in the courtyard and stared hard at Robin and Bull.

“Couldn’t you have restrained them? Locked them up or something?”

“They weren’t too keen on the idea,” said Taran.

“It’s done now,” said Robin. “We need to search the mansion, see if there are any clues as to where Rykan’s taken her.”

As they entered the mansion, Taran told Rienne what the guard had said. She pursed her lips, her face pale. She followed him, Cal behind her, as they made their way up to the suite Lord Nazir had shown them. The room looked the same as Taran remembered; Sullyan’s clothes and sword were still lying on the bed where she had left them the morning after the banquet.

Robin and Bull traded grim glances, disturbed that she was unarmed.

Taran helped them read the substrate in the room but none of them found traces later than the morning they had left. The traces were extremely faint and it was only because the mansion was abandoned that they had been retained at all.

Silently, Robin put Sullyan’s things into her discarded pack and picked up her sword. He turned to leave when a faint noise in the corridor caused them all to whirl around in alarm, swords drawn. The wizened old woman who appeared in the doorway gave a terrified squeak as she found herself facing four blades, each one aimed at her heart. Hands clutched to her mouth, she stood in frozen fear.

Bull recovered first, recognizing the elderly servant who’d waited on them before. “Harva? What are you doing here?”

The others sheathed their weapons and the old lady breathed again.

“Oh, masters,” she panted, “I hoped you’d return. I hid when the others were driven off and I’ve been waiting ever since, hoping you’d be back.”

Robin strode over and took her roughly by the arm. “Can you tell us what happened to Sullyan?”

Harva shrank back, cringing away from his urgency. “Gently, Robin,” said Bull. “She wants to help us, remember?”

Robin colored, seeing the old lady’s fear. “I’m sorry, Harva.” He released her arm and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that I’m so worried and I’m not thinking straight. Please, tell us what you can. We’re frantic to find her.”

“I don’t know very much, master,” she said, her voice wavering.

Bull approached her and led her farther into the room. Guiding her to a chair, he helped her sit. “You tried to warn Sullyan before the feast, didn’t you, Harva? What worried you? Was it Rykan?”

At the mention of Rykan’s name, Harva paled and her rheumy eyes flicked around the room. “I heard them talking in the corridor, the day before you came.”

“Who did you hear?”

“His Grace and the Count. They didn’t see me, master, the lords never do. Anyway, I heard his Grace telling the Count that he didn’t want the Lady Ambassador knowing he was here until the Count introduced them at the banquet. The Count wasn’t happy—I could see his face—but the Duke’s his overlord, he hadn’t any choice.”

“So Rykan knew Sullyan was coming?” Robin shot a swift glance at Bull. “How did he know that?”

“Well I don’t know, master, I expect the Count told him.” The old woman’s voice carried a touch of asperity. “The Duke came four days before you did, he’d come to speak with the Count. I think he stayed because of your visit.”

Bull’s eyes widened. “He was waiting for us? So there’s more to this than just a passing fancy for a pretty girl?”

Harva sniffed. “His Grace never does anything for a passing fancy. He covets the throne, we all know that. I might be only a servant but even I know he’s been plotting for years to challenge the Hierarch.”

She glanced up at Bull, suddenly timid. “I don’t know this for fact, master, but his interest in the Lady might be something to do with that.”

Robin frowned. “He’d never get Sullyan to help him defeat the Hierarch. She’d never get involved. It’s none of our business who rules here.”

“But could he force her to help him?” the old woman said.

Robin stared at her. “I don’t see how. They’re metaphysical equals, so he can’t compel her, and I can’t see how holding her against her will would help him. As a hostage, she means nothing to the Hierarch, so it can’t be bargaining power he’s after. And if he hopes to ransom her to us, he’ll be disappointed there, too. Blaine would never make a deal with him, no matter what he owes her.”

Bull asked, “When did he take her, Harva?”

She rubbed her rheumy eyes with a large-knuckled hand. Taran watched her with admiration, thinking it couldn’t have been easy for her hiding here, just waiting on the off chance they would return. Her regard for Sullyan must run deep, he thought.

“He came back during the council session,” she said, “just before noon. But he didn’t go in. He didn’t have to.” Her wrinkled mouth thinned in disapproval. “He’d left his own servants and guards to do his work for him. Once you left, they herded us together in one of the halls. We were held there, not allowed to do our duties. The kitchen servants were there too so the meal must’ve been prepared by his own people. I think the food was drugged because everyone was carried out unconscious, including the Count and the Lady Ambassador. His Grace had them put into carriages and driven away. He even took all the horses.”

“So that’s how he did it.” Robin jumped up, startling Harva. “She’d never suspect the food if they were all eating it. That must be why we can’t contact her, Bull. He’s keeping her drugged.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Bull slowly. “You’d still be able to sense her psyche even if she was insensible. Drugs don’t stop the mind from working, they only put part of it to sleep. There’s more to it than that, I’m sure. I just can’t think what. Go on Harva, what happened after that?”

The old lady sighed, folding stiff hands in her lap. “His Grace’s personal guards ordered the rest of the court—those who hadn’t been drugged—to follow the Duke to Kymer. A few were stupid enough to resist and they were killed. The servants—we were all terrified—were run off, including the peasants and laborers who’d come to the mansion for protection. There’s been talk of war all summer, everyone’s been nervous. The Duke’s men threatened us with death if we came back and then set fire to the settlement to show they meant business. No one stayed after that, they all bolted for the hills.”

“Except you,” said Bull.

She gave him a shy smile. “The Lady Ambassador was always kind to me, she didn’t treat me like a servant. I was fond of her.”

“Why did the Duke’s men want the Count’s to follow him to Kymer?” asked Cal.

Harva said, “The Duke needs as many men as he can get for his war.”

“So why run off the servants?”

Her look was withering. “Most of us have been with the Count all our lives. We might only be servants, but we’re loyal. The Duke knows that. He has his own servants who know better than to cross him, and none of us were trained to bear arms. We’re no use to him.”