Back From Chaos (29 page)

Klast knew that his own longing matched hers, but old habit had led him to withdraw from her again. Surely she could understand that they could not be together … could she not? He shook his head in frustration.

Anyway, he expected Gaelen would soon send him away again on another mission. She would have to learn not to count on him. He wondered why that thought gave him no satisfaction.

~ 66 ~

MESSALIA

Messalia was mildly surprised when she found herself wakened by her guard in the middle of the night. This happened only rarely. When it did, the visitor was always important. The man had orders to send all others away until morning. So it piqued her curiosity when the guard told her the identity of her night visitor.

Messalia arrived in the hall to find Sinnath pacing and led him into her private study. Neither spoke a word until both were seated.

Messalia opened. “Tea is on the way Sinnath. I must say I am surprised by your arrival at this early span. I am not accustomed to being roused out of my bed, and would not do so for many. Your need must be great, so I will not engage in idle talk. Tell me what has occurred while we wait for the tea.”

She leaned back in her chair and regarded Sinnath through lidded eyes, trying not to study his agitation too obviously. There was something going on, and she needed to be on her mettle. She could afford no mistakes. They lived in dangerous times.

Sinnath, for his part, was clearly too worried to notice Messalia’s calculated observation of him. She could see that something had shaken him badly and left him off balance. Yet, he still retained enough self-control not to blurt everything.

“
Thank you for seeing me, Messalia. I apologize for the early span. I have just come from one of my warehouses, which burns to the ground as we speak. While it does not ruin me, as I have others, nevertheless its loss will be felt.” He hesitated, as if not sure how to proceed.

A small knock came at the door, and Messalia rose to admit the servant woman bringing tea. The poor woman had dressed hastily, and had left her hair still covered with her nightcap.

Sinnath’s gaze fell on the currant bread, butter and honey.

So, he was hungry, Messalia mused. She used the distraction to make a show of pouring and serving tea as she continued to evaluate the situation. His hands shook as he accepted the plate and buttered his bread. She set the teacup on a small table beside his chair and noted that he added far too much honey compared to last time, another symptom of his distress.

She set her own cup and a plate with a small slice of the bread and honey beside her on her writing table and sat down to wait. Before she opened her mouth she wanted more information. Things must be desperate indeed.

Sinnath swallowed a large bite, his Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively, and folded his hands together between his knees to control their tremor.

“
I was called to the warehouse a few spans ago by a worker of mine. He said he saw a light inside, and he heard voices. Rather than accost the intruders, he came immediately to fetch me. He is not a fighting man, you see, and had no means to arrest anyone.”

Messalia smiled to herself as she watched Sinnath examine his thumbs, hands still stuck between his knees. When she did not immediately speak, he raised his head to study her face. He would read nothing there, she knew.

Messalia noted the sweat appearing on his brow. Finally, she took pity. “What is it you wish from me, Sinnath?” She took a sip of her tea, watching his face over the rim of her cup.

Sinnath threw his hands open in a gesture of helpless inquiry. “What does it mean? What does it bode? I need to know what it is safe for me to do. These are unpredictable times for Bargia.”

The last was added to cover his realization that he had spoken almost with panic, not thinking clearly. The gesture gave Messalia a small shiver of delight. The man was positively squirming.

“
These are indeed unpredictable times for Bargia, as you say, Sinnath. We have had changes in leadership, a new lady, added a demesne under our rule and suffered losses from the plague. Things have been unsettled and will continue so for some time. This much is apparent. Yet what these things bode for you is hidden to me. My sight has given me nothing about you, particularly.” Then, in a soft, soothing tone, she added, “Perhaps, if you can be more specific in your questions, more will come to me.” It did not hurt to make a show of compassion.

Sinnath’s face almost crumpled. He caught himself, but not before Messalia had seen. She smiled into her hand again. He would surely reveal more in his shaken state.

He shifted nervously, as if trying to decide how much he could tell her. He took a deep breath to compose himself. “Messalia, you seem to have a grasp of where Bargia is heading, in general, that is. Can you tell me if we shall experience more unrest, or will things settle down now? More specifically,” and here he hesitated, “are the citizens inclined to accept our new lord and his lady, or will they rebel?”

Messalia smiled enigmatically and looked at the ceiling as if trying to gather her thoughts. She was enjoying his discomfiture immensely. Men thought themselves so powerful, but she, Messalia had the power now. Sinnath would find no information here. She thought on how best to answer.

Gaelen’s actions during the epidemic had gained him a good deal of respect. His popularity had grown as he had moved among the people, making sure food and shelter were available. Still, some had been unhappy with his decision to close the city gates and declare quarantine, particularly the traders and merchants. Their businesses had suffered. Yet, even they had to admit that it had slowed the spread of the epidemic. Some conceded that it had likely saved the lives of family members living in summer homes or further into the countryside. Now, as life began to return to some semblance of normalcy, widowers, widows and orphans alike felt a debt of gratitude to Gaelen. Their fates could have been much worse without his foresight and leadership. Rebellion seemed an unlikely prospect. Yet she also knew an element of unrest over the new regime still existed. She felt certain Sinnath had had a part in this, even though he had not told her so directly.

Her decision on how to respond to him rested on whether it was more expedient to expose him or to protect him, now that she had him in her grasp. She sighed, deciding to bide a while to see which way the wind blew.

“
I am sorry, Sinnath. It appears Earth is loath to give up her secrets. The only thing I can say is that rebellion does not seem imminent, though I do still see unrest. I cannot divine where that will lead.” She offered him a weary, apologetic smile and watched his face fall yet again and the hopefulness fade from his eyes. Men could be so easily manipulated, she told herself for the thousandth time.

Messalia stood up to indicate the consultation was over and watched as Sinnath reluctantly followed suit. When the servant came to the summons of the bell, he followed her wordlessly to the door. The guard would lead him back to the hidden exit and lock it behind him. Messalia smiled with satisfaction as she headed back to her bedchamber. He had not even had the presence of mind to thank her. She shook her head slightly. Sinnath was a beaten man. She would do well to distance herself from him.

~ 67 ~

BROKEN DREAM

Brensa’s joy at hearing Klast tell her he loved her faded as she watched him withdraw from her again. True, he had thought her delirious when he had murmured those words. But she had heard truth in them, and they had brought her back from death. Now, his behaviour hurt and puzzled her. The few times she had tried to engage him in conversation he had hurriedly made excuses to leave. Brensa knew something must be done about this, but she was unsure how to proceed. Something had to change.

Marja could not help her. Marja understood she loved Klast but believed Klast incapable of returning her feelings. Marja told her she still agreed with Klast’s assessment that he was destined for a solitary life with no ties. His work demanded it. Spies did not make good husbands. There was no point in belabouring the issue. So Brensa stopped talking to Marja about Klast.

In her quiet moments, Brensa tried to unravel the mystery of their connection and what it meant for their future. Part of her musings included examining herself. Who had she become since her abduction? Before—what seemed like years ago—she had been a carefree, naïve girl, full of dreams of romance, joining and children. That girl had died. Brensa could hardly remember her at all. So who was she now? What could she truly expect? Certainly, she would never trust any man but Klast. So joining was out of the question. Unless … but Klast had made it very plain that he wanted no part of that life. But what if that changed? After all, he had said he loved her. Could she do the things expected of a wife, even with him? She shuddered at the memories that evoked. Could she overcome her fear enough to make … that … possible? She dared not even name it. Klast would not knowingly hurt her. Of that she was certain. But if they did join together, she did not want to deny him. She could see the cruelty in that. He deserved more.

She stalled on that thought every time, and the tears welled in her eyes. It was the thought that wet her pillow every night as she cried herself to sleep, the one thought she could not get past. If he would only speak with her, perhaps they might find some answers. But he avoided her, and so they seemed at a stalemate that would not break.

Meanwhile, she watched Marja blossom with glowing health and widening girth. Brensa tried to find purpose in that and in the assurance that she would be able to remain close by. This would have to be the child she gave her love to. She would never have one of her own.

~ 68 ~

STRATEGIES

Heads bent together so they would not be overheard, Klast informed Gaelen about the prisoner, Narlost. Gaelen decided not to go directly to interrogate him. This matter need to be handled carefully. The questioning and trial had to convince the council, and the people, that Sinnath had indeed betrayed the House of Bargia. Instead, Gaelen chose to call a meeting with Janest, Grenth, and Kerroll, his top military advisor. He dispatched individual guards to summon each man in confidence. This insured that no one would know Sinnath had not been invited. Such an omission would cause suspicion and lead to talk. Until proof had been established, Gaelen could not afford speculation or gossip.

The two agreed that Klast should not be present during questioning but would wait outside the door, in case he was needed. This would make accusations of a setup less likely. Gaelen wanted to avoid suspicion that Klast had any previous knowledge of Sinnath’s actions. Some still did not share Gaelen’s trust of Klast, and his presence might be interpreted as proof that Klast had too much influence over him. He was not an official member of the council, and as such should not be privy to their closed-door discussions.

As Janest, Grenth and Kerroll entered the council chamber each one glanced at the man tied to the chair, at first with surprise, then with open curiosity. Yet, they knew enough to keep silent until Gaelen explained. Not until the last member took his seat and Gaelen rose to bar the door did they realize Sinnath remained absent. The locked door could only mean that he had been deliberately left out.

As Gaelen returned to his chair he expected that each had already formed a good idea of why he had convened the meeting.

Kerroll eyed Gaelen expectantly, but both Grenth and Janest took a sudden interest in their hands, uncomfortable with the unpleasant implications they must soon face. Gaelen could guess what they must be thinking. Surely, there had to be some mistake. Sinnath had served loyally for so many years. They were about to be ordered to betray an old friend.

Gaelen wasted no time. “Thank you for coming. You see that one member is absent and have probably surmised the reason.” He indicated the man tied to the chair. “Klast has just apprehended this prisoner at a warehouse, which at this moment still burns to the ground. Earth grant that this is all that burns, and the fire does not spread.”

He gave a nod in the direction of the prisoner. “Klast arrested this man at the fire. He is a member of a band involved in treason against us.”

Gaelen avoided naming Sinnath, as he wanted to have that information come directly from the prisoner. He needed to know if the man knew Sinnath by name, or if he merely followed Markel, the name the leader went by.

“
This traitor will tell us what he knows.” The last was said with a coldness Gaelen had never used before. As he spoke he turned to the prisoner. With a low, feral growl he commanded, “Start with your name.”

The tone had the desired effect. The man shrank back, the whites of his eyes visible, “Narlost, … m … my lord. Please, I … I know nothing of treason.”

Gaelen stopped him on the last word by leaping up and lunging at him, so close they came almost nose to nose. The prisoner would have fallen backward, along with the chair, had the guard behind him not caught it. He squeaked in fear, choking on his last word.

“
Silence!” Gaelen roared in the man’s face. “Do not take me for a fool. We know what you are and those with you.”

Gaelen stood tall then, remaining beside the chair, hands on hips, feet apart. Resuming his former coldness, he continued. “You will give us the names of all those at the warehouse before the fire started, especially your leader.” He waited a few seconds and added, “Now! Or you will wish you had.”