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Authors: Flora Speer

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BOOK: Fire of the Soul
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“By your leave, my lord.” Mallory made a
graceful little bow and left the room well satisfied with
himself.

He was only a few steps beyond the king’s
chambers when a nondescript man confronted him. Mallory halted in
surprised recognition.

“Hulme, why are you here in the palace? What
do you want?”

“I came to find you, my lord. Don’t worry; I
told the guards at the gate that I am carrying an urgent message
for you.”

“You had better have such a message. I’ve
warned you never to come here unless it’s vitally important.”
Mallory took a threatening step toward the man, who was one of the
many spies he employed. Rather than exhausting himself using his
Power to learn what he needed to know he let others uncover
information. Only then, if an issue seemed significant enough to
warrant the effort, would Mallory expend the Power he preferred to
hoard.

“I’ve heard a rumor,” Hulme revealed, not
backing up, but standing almost nose to nose with his master.

“A rumor in Kerun City, while the royal court
is here? How remarkable.” Mallory waited.

“A ship has arrived.”

“Indeed?” Mallory’s sarcasm deepened. “A ship
has arrived at a port. I am impressed.”

“A ship from Mataram,” Hulme elaborated.

“Did you make certain of that before coming
to me?” With his interest caught at last, the sarcasm left
Mallory’s voice.

“As soon as I heard, I went to the docks to
see for myself,” Hulme said. “It’s naught but a small fishing boat.
But still, from Mataram.”

“You try my patience. Who was aboard the
ship? It must have carried a passenger. Matarami fishermen do not
sell their catches in Kantian ports.”

“Well, they did sell a few fish here,” Hulme
said. “A distraction, I think, to conceal the true purpose of the
visit.”

“Very likely,” Mallory agreed. “What
else?”

“A passenger left the ship the moment it
reached the dock. Someone not very tall, not very large, and
completely covered in a dark cloak with a hood.”

“And where did this mysterious passenger
go?”

“To a side door of the palace.”

“To meet with the king?” Mallory frowned.
Dyfrig had said nothing about any visitor. If he was concealing
negotiations with the Matarami rulers—

“To see the queen,” Hulme said, his words
vanquishing any thought of how painfully Mallory would punish
Dyfrig for hiding important policy matters from him.

“Are you sure?” Mallory asked.

“I’d never bring information to you that I’m
not certain of,” Hulme said. “I’ve become good friends with one of
the palace maidservants. She could hardly wait to whisper the tale
of the queen’s secret visitor. But that’s all she had time to say
before she was recalled to some chore.”

“Find the maid again and use her to learn
whatever else you can about the messenger’s identity and
intentions,” Mallory ordered.

“There is one peculiar thing,” Hulme
said.

“What?” Mallory demanded, not hiding his
impatience.

“I talked to two of the sailors from that
Matarami ship. They said the seas were rough all around them, yet
the ship sailed straight along with no tossing nor turning and with
the wind always at their back. Pirate ships shadowed them on all
sides, but stayed well away and did not attack. The sailors say the
entire voyage from Larak to Kerun City was strange.”

“Sailors are a superstitious lot. I want
facts, not fanciful tales.”

“I’ll learn what I can from the maid.” Hulme
edged away from Mallory until he vanished in the shadows of the
poorly lit corridor.

Mallory returned to his own house so deep in
thought that afterward he scarcely recalled the short walk with his
guards surrounding him as usual. He vowed to be more cautious in
future, for he was well aware that many of Dyfrig’s nobles disliked
him enough to want him dead.

At least he was safe in his well-defended
house, except from his wife. There seemed to be no place where he
was free of Fenella’s overheated expectations. On the other hand,
he did crave a legal heir. As he made his way to his bedchamber,
his thoughts returned to his servant.

Hulme’s story was certainly interesting, but
Mallory’s immediate concern was the real reason behind Garit’s
visit to Kantia. All he needed to do was offer Dyfrig
unquestionable proof that Garit and his interfering grandmother
were planning to seize Kinath, whether by some legal maneuver or by
force of arms, and Dyfrig would either order Garit and Lady Elgida
into permanent exile from Kantia, leaving the little boys in
Mallory’s hands, or else Dyfrig would have Garit and his
grandmother imprisoned.

As to the proof he needed, he knew where to
get it.

“Dear sister, you are going to be such a help
to me,” Mallory said softly as he undressed and prepared to submit
himself once more to Fenella’s grasping embrace.

 

“It’s a magical Emerald,” Hulme said the next
afternoon. “It holds Power beyond imagining.”

“The Great Emerald of the East, stolen?”
Mallory whispered in astonishment. Then, recalling to whom he was
speaking, he added, “Where is it?”

“Queen Laisren has it. The ship’s passenger
took it directly to her. Oh, and the passenger is a female, who is
presently residing in Laisren’s chambers, though few people know
she’s there.”

“That’s interesting.” Mallory considered the
effects on him if the Power of a magical stone were linked to the
Power that Laisren had inherited from her father. The queen would
be invincible. If she decided that she, rather than Mallory or some
other nobleman ought to rule Dyfrig, then Dyfrig would no longer
need to rely on Mallory.

On the other hand, if Mallory possessed the
Emerald, he could use it to enhance his own considerable Power.
Then Laisren wouldn’t be able to stand against him. Mallory could
eliminate Dyfrig and make himself king of Kantia.

“Find out where Queen Laisren keeps the
stone,” Mallory ordered.

“Oh, I know that already.” Hulme’s grin
suggested he would expect to be well paid for divulging that
particular detail.

“Where?” This was worth the effort of
expending just a hint of his Power to elicit the truth. Mallory
allowed a slight vibration to infringe upon Hulme’s
consciousness.

“In a box,” Hulme said, whimpering a little
from the stress. “A stone box that Laisren has sealed shut by
magic, so no one but she can open it. She keeps the box on a table
in her bedchamber because it was a gift from her father. Or so she
says.”

“That will be all for now,” Mallory said.
“Learn whatever else you can about the stone and how the queen
protects it, and then return to me. I will reward you, Hulme. Never
fear.”

Hulme would indeed be rewarded. Once Mallory
had extracted all he possibly could from the man, Hulme would be
eliminated. Mallory had learned from his father never to leave
spies roaming freely to tell others what they’d revealed to
him.

 

“Oh, that silly Emerald. I’m so tired of
hearing about it.” In her bedchamber, Fenella looked over her bare
shoulder at Mallory as if to entice him.

“I asked you what the court gossip about it
is,” Mallory said, gritting his teeth in frustration. The woman
only had one thing on her mind and he was bored with the daily need
to satisfy her.

“Everyone knows that Queen Laisren has the
jewel, but no one is quite sure exactly where it is. She has hidden
it away, you see.” Fenella sighed. “I like jewels as well as any
woman, but what a fuss over one little stone. Besides, I would much
prefer a ruby to an emerald.”

Of course she would, Mallory thought.
Fenella’s unerring bad taste would lead her to choose a stone in a
color that would clash with her reddish hair and with all the
freckles on her nose and cheeks. He shuddered delicately, recalling
the gown she had worn to their wedding, a garish red velvet trimmed
in some kind of reddish-brown fur.

“Surely,” Mallory whispered, moving closer,
“surely, my dear wife, you can learn how Laisren intends to use the
stone. Quietly, of course, without calling attention to your
interest in it.”

“Use it? Oh!” Fenella gasped in delight as
Mallory laid a hand on her shoulder and stroked down along her arm.
It was his usual starting gambit in the lurid game he played with
her each night. “Oh, Mallory, I do like that.”

“I know. Tell me about the stone,” he
encouraged her.

“I think perhaps Laisren will have it made
into a necklace, or a new crown. The crown she usually wears is so
plain. Oh, Mallory!”

She uttered the choked cry when Mallory
pulled her hard against him. Beneath his loose robe he was naked
and he allowed her a moment of eager excitement before he pulled
away, evading her clutching hands.

“Listen to me, Fenella. I want to know
exactly where the Emerald is, and what Laisren’s plans for it are.
I do not want anyone else to become aware of my interest in the
stone. Do you understand me?”

“You want?” Fenella blinked as if to clear
the fog of desire from her eyes and her brain. She looked more
closely at him. “You want the stone?”

“I do not,” Mallory lied. “The Emerald
belongs to the queen now. But it’s said to hold certain peculiar
properties. I want to know how Laisren will use those
properties.”

“Do you mean you want to protect the king
against harm from the stone?”

“It is my sworn duty to protect the king,” he
said.

“Oh, Mallory, you are so good, and so loyal.
Of course, I’ll help you.” She closed the distance between them.
Her grasping hands reached out. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yes, I know.” Mallory stood unmoving while
his wife touched and fondled him. He shut his ears to her delighted
shriek when he tumbled her on onto the bed and took her with
ruthless efficiency.

“Oh, Mallory! Oh, Mallory!”

He really was growing tired of listening to
the way she cried out his name over and over. Very soon now he’d
have to do something about Fenella. He’d think seriously about that
as soon as the encroaching blackness left his mind. But first, for
a few brief moments, he could afford to give in to the clamouring
demands of his body.

Chapter 20

 

 

Over the next two days, in spite of the
strict confinement to which Lady Elgida’s party was sentenced by
the king’s anger, Calia began to appreciate the joy and the love
with which Ilona lived her life. Never once did Calia feel
unwelcome in that house. Never did she sense any irritation on
Ilona’s part at having so many unexpected guests.

Euric was openly fond of Ilona. He often
touched his wife’s arm or her hand, and kissed her on the cheek
with no sign of embarassment if other people were present. From the
way he and Ilona gazed at each other, Calia guessed that their more
private moments were tender and extremely warm.

Then, there was Ilona’s easy, affectionate
relationship with her brother. She and Durand teased each other,
laughed together over childhood memories, and seemed almost to read
each other’s thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Garit demanded on the second
afternoon of their temporary banishment from court. He had followed
Calia into the garden and stood watching while she wiped the
treacherous moisture from her eyes. “Why are you weeping? Why did
you hurry out of the room before Ilona and Durand could finish
telling their funny story?”

“I am
not
weeping.” Calia moved away,
feeling that a bit of distance from him was her safest option at
the moment. She was still annoyed with him for assuming he could
simply order her to turn over the Emerald if Laisren gave it into
her keeping and that she would obey him without a qualm.

She should have known Garit would not permit
evasion. He caught her arm and spun her around to face him. Then he
removed his hands as if the touch of her burned him.

“Answer me. What new scheme are you
hatching?”

“No scheme.” The anger she had felt during
their dispute in Durand’s room flared anew. “I wish you would not
be so suspicious of me.”

“I wouldn’t be suspicious if you hadn’t lied
to me.”

“I am not going to explain again how I did so
against my will, and on your grandmother’s explicit orders. Nor
will I defend my decision to obey Ultan’s wishes.

“Do you really want to know why I was crying
just now? Very well, I’ll tell you. It’s because I am a frequent
witness to how happy Ilona is with Euric, and because I see daily
the affection that she and Durand share, affection they’ve clearly
held for each other since they were very young. Ilona has told me
how Durand earned her dowry by his work for King Henryk, so she
could marry a good and decent man who would love and respect
her.

“I am happy for Ilona, and I like her very
much, but I do envy her. I have never known a father’s tenderness,
nor a brother’s affection, and no man will ever love me the way
Euric loves her.” She had said too much. She knew it from the
closed look that came over Garit’s face.

“I don’t often give way to self-pity,” she
told him. “I know very well that no one in this house is to blame
for my lonely childhood, but the happiness here is in such striking
contrast to life at Catherstone.”

Garit stared at her, wishing with all his
heart that she was someone else’s daughter. Before he’d known the
truth about her, Calia’s concern for his grandmother and her
competence as chatelaine of Saumar, where she was liked and
respected, had slowly melted some of the coldness around his heart,
until he had begun to think about a future with her. Knowing he’d
never love her – or any woman – the way he had loved Chantal, still
he was willing to marry her. Then he’d learned that Walderon was
her father and the chill at his heart had returned, more severe
than ever.

BOOK: Fire of the Soul
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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