Elisha Barber: Book One Of The Dark Apostle (43 page)

Touching the bracelet of pale markings, Elisha grasped the offered hand. Comfort flowed through the contact, and he drank it in, letting out a shuddering breath as he shut his eyes. “Thank God,” he breathed. “Thank God.”

For a moment, Mordecai waited, and Elisha raised his head at last, letting himself be drawn up from the floor. Nausea swept through him, threatening to topple him once again, but Elisha clung to Mordecai’s hand, and the feeling receded.

Wearing a new cap, and a robe of practical brown, Mordecai studied him. “It’s been three days, Elisha, you are entitled to some weakness, yet.”

“Three days? But it seems—” he broke off. How could it be so, when the memory of cold still chilled his mind?

“It requires terrible strength to stop a war, and terrible weakness is bound to follow.”

Nodding, Elisha released his hand. “Terrible indeed. What have I done?” he murmured. As he stared at his hand, he remembered more than cold. He felt again the leaping joy of death flooding through him. So much power in this hand.

Mordecai closed the distance in a step, and set his hands on Elisha’s shoulders, gazing steadily up at him. “
You have taken one life to save many others. Yes, you might have done much worse, you have held what no man should, and you have borne what no man should. Elisha Magus, you struggled with death on my behalf, and won. Death fought with you and might have taken you, but still you have won. In spite of all, you are a man of flesh and blood.”
He smiled then, and the warmth of it banished the last of Elisha’s shivers. “
Blessed and cursed, as we all must be.”

“
Only one life? Can it be?
” Relief set him to trembling inside, and he sat back onto the bed.

Mordecai stood before him, his touch more gentle now. “
It was the king’s life, Elisha, and there will be a reckoning for that.”

A reckoning indeed. The king had been wicked, of this Elisha had no doubt, but a king nonetheless. Elisha hardly knew how vast a thing his death might be.

“You touched a guard,”
Mordecai went on,
“and might have killed him, but instead merely delivered an injury even the learned physician cannot account for.”

“
What about the duke? He fell before me—I can’t see it clearly.
”

As Mordecai parted his lips to answer, Elisha felt the ripple of someone approaching. “
You will
.” He stepped away, breaking the contact.

Tapping on the door left open in the nursemaid’s wake, Duke Randall strolled in. His arm was in a sling, and his eyes were still rimmed with darkness, but he walked confidently enough. “I heard a scream, and assumed you must have woken.” He nodded to Mordecai, who bowed slightly. “Are you still demonic?” he asked lightly, his lips curving a little.

“No, Your Grace, I think not.” He considered rising to bow, but decided against it as his vision wavered yet again.

“Glad to hear it. Welcome to my home.” It was the duke who bowed, his neck once again exposed to Elisha’s potential.

“How…?” Elisha asked, ruffling the hair out of his face, then, “Wait. I need water.”

“Still no manners,” the duke observed.

“A poor nurse I make,” Mordecai sighed, rising and slipping back out the door.

Wincing, Elisha said, “Sorry, Your Grace. Manners have never been my strength.”

Duke Randall let out a hearty bark of laughter. “Don’t take me seriously, Barber, I beg of you. Do you mind?” he inquired, pulling up a chair and sinking into it. “I’ll take a bit of recovery yet.”

Elisha started to rise with a frown. “What’s the damage?”

Flapping his free hand, the duke said, “Tush, sit. I’ve been well cared for, by your own man.”

“The surgeon?”

“The barber,” he corrected. “Your assistant, as I understand.”

“Then Ruari’s all right.”

At this, the duke lost his smile. “Yes, yes, he’s fine, and his lady-friend as well. A captain called Madoc, I believe, and all but two of his men survived.”

The softening of expression did not escape him. “Then what is the matter, if I may know?”

“They will not come to you. I’m sorry. They saw,” he broke off, shaking his head. “They know what you are.”

Nodding slowly, Elisha said, “Then so do you, Your Grace.”

“So why have I come? Why have I taken you into my home? Aside from the fact that you won this battle for me. Alaric, the king’s pig of a son, promised to recant if I released him, and he’s kept his word about that, so at least my daughter’s honor is no longer in question, even if her marriage prospects are shaky. Now I’m hearing his brother Thomas is discredited for plotting against their father, we’ll have to hope that Prince Alaric proves worthy in other ways.”

With a little shrug, Elisha invited him to continue.

“But that’s nothing to do with you, really. I might have released him for the apology alone, but I thought I could get a little more than that.” The duke resettled his injured arm. “My wife is a wonderful, compassionate woman—you must meet her—the Duchess Allyson.” Then a grin split his face. “But you have already met her, under the name of Willowbark.”

Relaxing, Elisha flopped back onto the comfortable bed and sighed. “I knew someone had to be here; how else would you know what went on?”

“She told me you were too good to lose—as if I’d not seen it myself; that you deserved a better chance, and I gambled she was right. I won, quite handily, too.”

“I was the lure in a trap to catch you.”

“Not your fault. I should have expected as much from that back-stabbing bastard. No matter, here we all are, safe and mostly sound. I think I might have come after you even without my wife’s bidding.”

“Did she know I was sent to kill you?” Elisha glanced toward him, and the duke narrowed his eyes over a slender smile.

“Something was on, we knew that much. Some of my men argued to let you die instead or bring you back in chains. I took another gamble.”

“With your life.”

Again, Duke Randall shook his head. “I thought self-knowledge was one of
the laws, but never mind that. That day we first met, on the field, my man dropped his sword for just a moment. You did not plead for mercy. You did not pray or rant against me. What did you say? ‘Don’t move him.’ You were on the verge of being executed, and you thought first of your patient—a stranger, and an enemy.”

“I didn’t know that,” Elisha replied.

“That’s exactly the point. It did not matter a whit to you who he was, if he was lord or servant, enemy or friend—he was wounded, and you had the skill to save him. Of course, I have my own interests at heart in bringing you here. If concerns over the king’s death can be assuaged”—he tipped his head to acknowledge the size of this
if
—“I want you to work for me. Even when you were just a barber, I thought to earn your loyalty.” He spread his hands. “And now, all the better for me. I suspect I may prefer to have you on my side.”

With a grim smile, Elisha said, “I am rather glad I did not see myself, at that moment. But if you will have me, then I will stay.”

Mordecai entered, the room warming with his familiar presence, bearing a tray of food with a tall mug of cold water. “From the river,” he said, offering it with a flourish. “Drew it myself.” He met Elisha’s gaze.

Rising heavily from his chair, the duke said, “I’ll leave you to it. When you’re up and about, I can send you to the city, with an advance on your wages to purchase whatever you need. I expect the things you brought with you this far have been well dispersed by now.” He sighed, wincing at the pull on his wound. Again he gave a slight bow and withdrew.

As he laid out the food on a little table, Mordecai said, “She’s come, you know, if you’ve not felt her.”

Easing himself into a chair, Elisha took a long draught of water. “I wasn’t sure if I should hope for that or fear it.”

Mordecai nodded. “I’ll send her, then you’ll be sure.” He disappeared through the door again.

Tipping her head around the door, Brigit watched him for a moment before she stepped through.

His heart rose just to see her. Her pale face looked as radiant as ever, as if an inner glow suffused her skin. She ducked away from his scrutiny, hiding her eyes as she entered. Bundled in her arms she carried a heap of dark wool.
Turning from him, she laid it out on the bed and smoothed the cloth with a careful hand, her red hair swinging forward to hide her face. His lost cloak.

“I cast a spell and found it for you,” she said. “The coins you sewed in are gone, of course.”

“Thank you,” he replied, stiff and self-conscious. He must look a mess, with his bandages and his unruly hair.

She spun on her heel and laughed, a beam brightening her face as she dropped onto the bed. She kicked her heels just as she had done on the altar, so long ago, when his hands had held the silken weight of her hair. “Oh, Elisha, it has been such an amazing time. It’s May, now, did you know? To think so much could happen in the space of a single month!”

He wet his lips and remained silent as he took another swallow.

“What you did,” she breathed, sighing as her eyes searched the ceiling, “I have never heard its like. I was right about you—my mother saw the power in you.”

“Not in me,” he said, shaking his head. Then he froze and glanced up again. “What happened to the talisman?”

With a toss of her head, Brigit replied, “I don’t know.”

The lie cut through him with a delicate blade, and his hopes faded away as quickly as they had flared. “Brigit, you must give it back. It’s not just a tool, not even just a talisman—”

At least she did not maintain the pretense of ignorance. “I can’t do that. I need it. We need that power.”

“No, Brigit! You don’t know what it is, what it feels like.” He tried to push himself up, but a wave of dizziness swelled through him. “I swore an oath to lay it to rest.”

“An oath you broke when it suited you.”

He winced at the truth of this, but his expression hardened at the thought of anyone using it as he had done. He had been desperate to save lives—in the hands of another…

“Elisha, a thing that strong cannot merely be set aside. It must be handled carefully—I know that. I’ve been a magus all my life and the daughter of one. Of course I know what to do. What if our enemies got hold of it?” Her hands clenched.

“Your enemies are not magi, Brigit, they wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“They have bombards, Elisha, and knights and armies, and a legacy of slaughter. You have only just become one of us. When you’ve lived under this fear for years, you’ll know, you’ll understand, why we need every advantage we can take.”

Passion lit her face and he almost believed in her.

“When the time is right, Elisha, you can fulfill your oath. When the crisis is past.”

He stared up at her. Would the crisis ever be past, or would she have a thousand reasons to keep what she had stolen? Weakness prevented him from fighting for it as he must, and the failure soured his stomach. “Oh, Brigit. Why did I ever love you?”

She gave a little moan of pain and dropped to the floor beside him, taking his hand. “Elisha, please. This is not easy for me, none of it! We may be at war, don’t you see? Alaric found the letter, the one his brother sent to hire Benedict to kill the king.”

“No,” Elisha broke in. “Benedict died because he would have revealed his master—it was the physician’s letter.”

Brigit frowned, her head tilted to the side. “But Lucius is gone already. Not that it matters. Even now, Alaric’s brother Thomas will be mounting an army against us. Alaric has claimed the crown, of course, since he was faithful, but it shall not be given up without a fight. That night you fell from my room, I was expecting an ally, a magus who might help us win victory. I’ve been preparing all my life for this moment. The time is at hand to claim our freedom. Oh, earth and sky, Elisha, the things that lie ahead for me will not be easy.”

His voice broke, but he managed, “Easy? You will be queen.” Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he brushed them harshly away.

“
If I had only met you first
,” she whispered in his mind.

Elisha flung her hand away, shaking off the contact as if it burned him. Indeed, the brand over his heart gave a sudden spasm of pain, and he cried out.

“Elisha!” she sobbed, stroking his face, daring to touch again the angel’s mark.

Again, he thrust her away, but not before he felt her words, a touch of surpassing tenderness, whispering, “
I love you.
”

“But not enough to give it back,” he said bitterly.

Brigit’s head fell, her red-gold hair rippling along his thigh. Then she shook herself and rose, drawing her arms about her. “I can’t,” she said, “Not yet. Someday, I promise you, I will do that, when this is all over with. There are such terrible things coming, Elisha, you can’t know it yet—” she broke off, then said, “Trust me.”

Tears spilled down his cheek. “By God, Brigit, what in heaven or earth could ever make me do that?”

With a soft cry, she fled.

Elisha leapt up and stumbled for the door, already dizzy with the motion. “Brigit!” he shouted as if one last try would make her understand.

“No!” she snapped, then spun about, still backing away, step by step. “Elisha Barber. You watched my mother die!” She flicked away a tear from her face. “If you had your accursed talisman then, you would have saved her!” She stabbed her finger in his direction. “And you would deny me that power? No, Elisha. Let no more witches burn.”

Her bright eyes reflected the flame of that day, his cheek warm with the memory as he let her walk away. This parting would not last forever: They two were bound, both past and future, by her mother’s death, by the talisman, by all that they shared.

Elisha gazed after her and wondered if she knew, if she had set herself upon that road as well, when she first refused his passion, then demanded it. In the stroke of her love, he had felt a deeper stirring, that of new life waiting and growing. Did she know yet that she would bear his son?