Boyett-Compo, Charlotte - WindTales 02 (49 page)

“Just do it!” Weir barked. “If Syn-Jern hasn't been taken and he's still at Holy Dale, we'll grab him and

hightail back into Serenia.” He turned to look once more at Kerm's worried face, then shuddered.

“Unless it's too late."

“Too late?” Stevens questioned. “Whatcha mean ‘too late'?” The old man grabbed Weir's shoulder.

“Whatcha mean by that?"

Weir shook off Stevens’ restraining hand. “I won't know ’til I talk to Gill, fool. Let me go see what's got

him looking so tarnished!"

Before another word of protest could be uttered, Weir was striding heavily across the gangplank, his

eyes worried.

Kerm dug his hands into the pockets of his tattered coat, glanced around to see who might be watching,

then started walking backwards as Weir advanced on him. As Saur came level with him, Kerm turned.

“There's trouble,” he stated.

“I gathered as much,” Weir snapped. He didn't turn to look at the man, but kept walking toward the

horses Kerm had brought from Holy Dale. “Was he taken?"

“No,” Kerm responded and heard the sigh of relief coming from the man beside him, but then he heard

the immediate intake of harsh breath and was quick to add: “And he's well and safe so's don't be

concerned on that side of it."

“Then what?” Weir hissed from between tightly clenched teeth. They had reached the horses and he had

one foot already in the stirrup.

Kerm waited until Saur was astride his mount, then put a hesitant hand on the man's leg. “It's your

sister."

“Tell me!” Weir ordered.

“She is at Holy Dale,” Kerm said, “but you can't go there."

“Watch me!” Weir snarled and would have put his horse to gallop had Weir not grabbed the bridle.

“Demonicus Voire is there,” Sara's brother informed Weir. “You are not to go there under no

circumstance.” His voice hardened. “That is straight from the McGregor's lips, Saur."

Weir's face paled. He understood the implications of Demonicus being at Holy Dale. “Does Syn-Jern

know the bastard has Genny?"

Kerm shook his head. “Ain't that way at all,” he insisted. “When I rode outta Holy Dale, that warlock

didn't know who your sister was and didn't know her relation to the Outlaw. The McGregor wants to

keep it that way. He's warned us all to be careful of our thoughts while that priest is there."

“Aye,” Weir whispered. “He can read thoughts.” He shivered hard. His eyes were haunted as he stared

unseeingly at the town. “How did Genny come to be at Holy Dale, then, if Demonicus didn't arrest her?"

Kerm hesitated, then decided if he could get through his own sister's ravaging a few years back, Weir

Saur could get over his sister's. The way Saur handled the news would settle a question or two in Kerm

Gill's mind. He lifted his chin, waited until Weir was looking his way, then spoke his piece slowly and

without inflection.

“The eel must have got a wild hair up his butt and thought you were the Outlaw. He figured if he was to

catch you, he'd bait the trap."

“My sister being the bait,” Weir concluded. “But how...” Kerm was shaking his head at the

misconception. “Then what?"

“We think he sent men to kidnap Sara and hold her ’til you showed yourself to free her,” Kerm

answered. He looked away. “Men what had brutal notions of their own."

For a moment, Weir said nothing, then the full realization of what could have happened to the woman he

had come to love was replaced with the knowledge of the terrible thing that had to have happened to his

sister.

“Oh, merciful Alel, no,” Weir whimpered. “No!"

“She's all right as far as we know,” Kerm was quick to say. “They didn't beat her or nothing like them

Diabolusians...” He stopped, knowing he'd said too much. He was sure Sara had not mentioned her rape

to Weir; but he was wrong.

“Sara told me,” Weir said, his eyes filling with tears. “She wanted no secrets between us. And now my

own sister...” A groan of despair burst from the depths of Weir Saur's soul.

“Well, leastways we don't think the eel ordered them to do what the bastards did,” Kerm said, his

mouth tight. “As best we can figure, once he found out, he killed the man what was in charge though the

others of ’em got away."

“How many?” Weir snarled.

“Four, we think. Leastways that's what the monkey man said."

“What monkey man?” Weir demanded. “There was a Chrystallusian involved in Genny's attack?"

“He was protecting her and they stabbed him and left him for dead. He's all right, too, and a'sleepin’

aside His Grace.” A sheepish smile flitted over Kerm's lips. “We had to pour tenerse down his throat to

keep him from getting up and running up them stairs to get his lady."

“So he's safe,” Weir said.

“Far as I know he is ‘less something's happened since I've been in the village."

Weir caught sight of the magistrate heading toward them and frowned. “I was to take that son-of-a-bitch

through the walls again today,” he said in a low voice. “We sure as hell don't need him out there now.”

He lowered his voice. “Get back to Holy Dale and warn the others that we'll be coming after them. Have

everyone in the cave and keep watch!"

“Saur!” Karl Krueger called as he came bustling toward Weir. “You have been told the news?"

Weir and Kerm exchanged a look, then Weir nodded, waiting for the magistrate to speak.

“I am on my way out there so this is fortuitous. We can ride together,” Krueger suggested.

Weir stiffened. “I have business that can not be postponed. I'll meet you at the manse."

Krueger frowned. “I fail to see anything more important than capturing the Outlaw and hanging his evil

ass from the nearest tree,” he snapped. “Robbing the warehouses of the Tribunal is one thing; raping a

defenseless woman and murdering her escort is another! The people might well cheer on a thief, but

they'll not be so enamored once they find out what he's done!"

Kerm opened his mouth to correct the magistrate, but Weir kicked him, catching Gill in the chest to

warn him to hold his tongue. “Mind your manners whilst the gentleman speaks, fool!"

Krueger puffed out his chest. “The villagers don't always know their place, Captain Saur,” he sniffed,

casting Kerm a superior look.

“They'll mind their manners when I'm around, Lord Magistrate,” Weir said as he stared into Kerm's

angry eyes. “I'll gather some of my men and help you hunt the Outlaw. Gill will accompany you out to

Holy Dale, won't you, Gill?"

A tight muscle bunched in Kerm's cheek, but he dipped his head.

“I left something on my ship and once I see to that, I'll be right on your heels,” Weir said. He dismounted

and hurried back to the gangplank.

From the way his captain was moving and the paleness of the man's face, Neevens knew things were as

bad as they could get. “Stevens, have the lines cast off. We're leaving,” he said softly.

Even as Weir Saur boarded the Revenge, the ship was preparing to sail.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Demonicus looked up from the report he was writing as the woman came into his room without

knocking. His hooded gaze flicked insultingly over her, dismissing her.

“You are the Tribunal representative?” Rosa-Lynn asked.

“And you are the ill-mannered concubine of Trace Sorn,” Demonicus snapped. He dipped his quill into

the inkpot. “I do not wish to converse with you, Madame."

“You're looking for the Outlaw,” Rosa-Lynn said.

The Arch-Prelate sighed with displeasure, then turned to look at the woman. “What is it you want,

woman?"

Rosa-Lynn sidled closer. “What if I could give him to you?"

Demonicus smiled nastily. “You know where Syn-Jern Sorn is?"

The Duchess answered the priest's smile with one of her own. “Convenient to think it is Syni, isn't it,

Your Worship?” she asked slyly.

The priest frowned. “You are saying I have the wrong man?"

Her cheek still throbbed from her husband's slap and the pain put starch in Rosa-Lynn Sorn's spine.

“What better way to hide what you are doing than to make it seem someone else is the culprit?” she

asked. “Who would suspect a man like Trace Sorn?"

Demonicus’ eyes flared. “You can't be serious!” he gasped. “The man is a fool!"

Rosa-Lynn held the priest's stare. “You know he killed Otis Playe,” she accused. “I overheard you and

him talking after the trial. If the Tribunal hadn't wanted Sorn lands so badly, you would have made sure it

was Trace who went to Tyber's Isle, not his brother."

The priest waved a dismissive hand. “That is neither here nor there and counts for very little."

“True, but don't you think it very convenient that the theft of Tribunal gold began only after Trace learned

his brother was free?” Rosa-Lynn asked. “If what we have heard is true, Syn-Jern has been free for well

over two years yet the robbing began only recently.” She cocked her head to one side. “Don't you find it

strange that a man no one liked and would have nothing to do with can come back to Virago and marshal

a force of men large enough to set upon Tribunal guards on the high seas and across the land?"

That thought had never entered Demonicus’ mind. “You know he is the Outlaw?” the priest asked.

“He has bragged to me of it,” she responded. “Oft times he has told me of his plans to gather together an

army large enough to overthrow Innis Hesar."

“The people hate Trace Sorn,” Demonicus snorted. “He could not garner the loyalty of five men, yet you

think he could raise five thousand?"

Rosa-Lynn had an answer for that. “No one ever sees the Outlaw, Your Worship. He is always

masked. They believe him to be Syn-Jern Sorn, just as you do. They'll follow a man who's suffered at

Tribunal hands and is willing to lead them."

Demonicus didn't doubt that for a moment. He had seen the future and knew what was in store for one

whom would follow him as Arch-Prelate. Though his talent did not extend to knowing his own future, he

feared something similar was entirely possible.

“You will swear the Outlaw is your husband?” Demonicus pressed, his fear overriding his normal

wariness.

“In a court of law before the magistrate!” Rosa-Lynn replied.

Demonicus leaned back in his chair. “The magistrate is on his way to Holy Dale even as we speak."

“Why?” Rosa-Lynn asked, suspiciously.

“Something to do with the woman your husband brought here.” He could not have cared less. “In regard

to her ravishment."

A frown marred the loveliness of Rosa-Lynn's face. “The woman upstairs was raped?” She snorted with

unladylike contempt. “She sure as hell didn't act like she'd been defiled!"

The priest closed his eyes and seemed to be falling asleep, yet, in fact, he was probing the ether around

them, listening for stray thoughts that might give him a clue to the mischief in the manse. When he opened

his eyelids, he smiled hatefully at Rosa-Lynn.

“The woman is the Outlaw's lady,” he said. “She is being careful not to let her thoughts stray, but the

servant is not as cautious."

Rosa-Lynn knew Trace Sorn couldn't possibly be the Outlaw. Her vindictiveness and revenge would

see Trace hanging from the scaffold, but she knew him to be too incompetent and stupid to lead men

against the Tribunal. But Syn-Jern on the other hand...

“What's the matter, bitch?” Demonicus grunted as he took in the woman's sudden pallor. “Having

second thoughts about having turned your husband in to me?"

“She's his woman,” Rosa-Lynn said, the monster of jealousy prodding her.

“I grant you leave to deal with her as you see fit,” Demonicus drawled. “The Tribunal cares not for the

whores of its enemies."

“His woman,” Rosa-Lynn repeated. “Under my own roof!"

Demonicus heard the horses before Rosa-Lynn did and got up from the desk to walk to the window.

Looking down into the courtyard, he spied the man he knew must be the magistrate. With him was a

small contingent of armed riders.

“I want her hanged,” Rosa-Lynn ground out.

Demonicus sighed. “It matters not in the least to me what you do to her.” He adjusted the sleeve of his

scarlet robe. “Run her through with your own dagger if it pleases you, woman. You'll not be charged with

the crime."

Rosa-Lynn did not trust the priest. “You must arrest her when you take Trace,” she said. “Let them hang

together as a warning to the people who have been aiding him!"

“Ah,” Demonicus said, coming back to the desk. “That perhaps is not a bad idea at all.” He picked up

the arrest warrant he had been writing, wadded it up and tossed it into the flames. He sat down and took

a fresh sheet of parchment from the drawer, picked up the quill, dipped it into the inkpot and began to

write.

Rosa-Lynn came to stand over the priest's shoulder and when she saw Trace Edward Sorn's name on

the arrest warrant, she began to laugh silently.

* * * *

When Weir Saur, Patrick Kasella, Tarnes, Stevens, Neevens, and the entire crews of both the Revenant

and the Revenge rode into Virago, they were met by Kerm Gill.

“They've taken the eel into custody!” Kerm said, barely controlling his prancing mount.

“By the gods, why?” Weir asked.

“They have a sworn statement from his wife that he is the Outlaw!” Kerm answered.

Weir's eyebrows shot up into his sweaty hair. “Why did she do that?"

“Don't know,” Kerm replied. He didn't know how to tell Weir the rest and when he looked at the tall

blond man sitting astride the roan stallion, he winced.