The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (23 page)

‘We carry the dead as well as anyone,’ Jessicah replied stoutly, untying her mask to breath better.

‘And so you have, but you’ve done enough,’ Orrell stated. ‘You’ve seen the result of war. Some of us need hearts not filled with grief. Otherwise, Turia will be an empire of the miserable and the broken-hearted—like me. Go back to the palace. I promise, you will have plenty to do.’

‘Very well, Captain,’ Leopold said, eager to agree.

Orrell measured them for a moment, regaining his strength, before he nodded and headed back into the fields, to his men and their cart, as they struggled over the uneven, boggy ground.

‘Such a valiant man,’ Jessicah said. ‘I wonder what he has seen to put such sorrow into his heart.’

‘Sorrow? He looks immune to it.’

‘Can you not see it? He has suffered, but he goes on. He refuses to falter.’ She watched the captain cross the fields between the scores of carts and barrows being filled with the dead.

‘Turians are stubborn,’ Leopold said. ‘I know from experience.’

‘True, but it is more than that. If every man were so gallant, the world would not need swords. He, too, should be in the palace, but he is here, carrying the dead enemy alongside his men.’

‘They are not the enemy,’ he told her. ‘Everybody here was once a citizen of Cintar.’ From Jessicah’s reaction he could tell he’d missed her point. ‘He told us to leave; let us do as he says.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, dragging her eyes from the captain to the city wall. ‘First, let us rest a moment in the shade.’

After a short spell, they returned into the city, following the shadow of the wall towards the distant open gates, and voyaging through the long, echoing tunnel.

‘It’s not so bad,’ she said abruptly as they crossed the rubble-strewn streets towards the palace.

‘What isn’t?’ he asked.

‘All this,’ she said, gesturing to the destruction around them. ‘We can fix it. We can fix everything to the way it was before—if not better. It’s a city, mere bricks and mortar, easily mended.’

‘I wish I had your confidence,’ he said, harbouring doubt. Cintar was a forest of ruins, a desert of rubble, stretching in every direction.

‘We have to be confident. Anything else is to give up. I won’t give up. We can make it and Samuel will see us through.’

‘Do you really have so much confidence in him?’ Leopold asked.

‘I do.’

She was a gorgeous woman. Dressed in functional work clothes, hair tied back and face dirtied, she remained beautiful. Leopold recalled how she looked on that first night, possessed by Rei, when he could see the outline of her body. The way she moved had made him shiver, tingling his nerves. She was older than him by ten years at least, but she had been preserved in youth by Rei’s magic or some power he did not understand. He wished to be with her, to touch her, to kiss her; she shared none of those desires.

Her eyes lingered on the captain whenever he was near. She peeked at him from beneath her long lashes, stealing glances, the want of a bashful maiden. Leopold knew he should not care about such things, yet his jealousy consumed him.

‘Leopold?’ Jessicah’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

‘What’s that?’ He had not heard anything she had been saying: a captive to his thoughts.

‘I said he has never let us down before. He saved me; he saved the city and the people of Seakeep.’

Leopold grunted. ‘Oh—Samuel. Yes. But only because of you. If you were not there to fuel his guilt, he would not have considered it.’

‘Why do you have such little belief in him, Leopold?’

‘He killed my father. That is enough.’

‘I’m sorry. He mentioned it to me,’ she admitted. ‘He said he had no choice; your father was adamant it had to be done.’

‘So he keeps telling me. That does not mean I should forgive him.’

‘True. But there are many examples of his goodness. Look at Toby and Salu ... only a kind man would shelter two such unfortunate souls.’

Again he scoffed. ‘Those two? Samuel needs the old man, and the two of them come packaged together. If not, he would have left them to fend for themselves long ago. He kicks them whenever he passes; I’ve seen him. There’s no chivalry in that. He’s the rudest person I’ve met—and that’s saying something considering some of the fishermen I’ve known.’

‘That’s just his way,’ she said. ‘He’s only trying to make you stronger, to prepare you for who you need to be.’

‘I don’t need to be anyone else. Who I am is enough. I could never trust him as you do. He’s using me for his own selfish purposes. He’s using all of us.’

‘Leopold,’ she said disappointedly, ‘what reason could he have to do that?’

‘You’ve heard him. He is obsessed with saving his devil son.’

‘That’s not all he speaks about. Leopold, if you don’t believe in Samuel, how can anyone? It’s your duty to give your people hope, and Samuel can make that hope into reality. That’s what magic is for, and he needs our support, our belief. Have faith in him, Leopold.’

‘Never!’ he replied, indignant.

He scowled and looked away as they passed a crowd of children playing in the remains of Saint Veddum’s Cathedral—three walls around a slew of stones and smouldering timbers. Stained glass lay in shattered rainbows around the children’s feet.

‘Tell me,’ Leopold prompted, changing the topic. Despite their differences in opinion, he was reluctant to offend her. ‘Do you remember anything of the years since the Darkening?’

‘Samuel asked me the same. I remember sounds and images, little else. Dreams are difficult to remember once the dreamer awakes.’ She too gazed over the broken world around them. ‘I find it difficult to accept so much time has passed. I feel the same, I look the same ... everything else has changed, except for Samuel. He is my anchor—I hold to him to affirm my sanity.’

‘Have the years passed quickly for you?’ he asked her. Samuel had expressly forbidden him to talk about her past, but Leopold did not care if she learned the truth. So be it if he upset the magician.

‘Only flashes, moments,’ she said.

‘Do you remember anything of Rei?’

She halted. ‘What is that?’

‘Hmm,’ Leopold stumbled, unsure of how much to say.

‘What is it?’

‘No, never mind. I shouldn’t have brought it up.’ ‘Samuel was right. You need more time,’ he added.

‘Please, tell me.’

‘You were a different person when we first met. You spoke with a different voice. Someone else was controlling you. It was Rei, the Witch Queen. You were her. You were the one that caused all this.’

‘No,’ Jessicah responded, shaking her head in denial.

‘You were the one directing the Order. You summoned the beasts.’

She looked at him, aghast. ‘Can this be true?’

‘So Samuel says. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.’

‘How could it be so? I would never commit such atrocities.’

‘It was the witch inside of you. It was not your fault. The soldiers would be furious if they knew it. Only Samuel and I know. We will keep it our secret. Please ... forget I told you. I should have remained silent.’

‘No,’ Jessicah said assuredly, striding away. Leopold hurried in step. ‘You were right to tell me. If I was responsible for this, I should know. I ... I can’t believe it, and yet it makes sense.’

‘I’m sorry. Please, don’t tell Samuel. He needs no more reason to detest me.’

‘He doesn’t detest you, Leopold.’ Her long strides stopped abruptly. She was quiet, before speaking again, softly, with contemplation. She grasped Leopold’s hands and spoke into his eyes. ‘I remember a long dream from which I could not awake. I wandered aimlessly without avail through darkness. I could not see. I sensed a presence and found my way towards it. I came across a fire, white as snow. It kept me warm and I sheltered beside it. It smelled of fresh rain on grass. It hummed a deep and resounding tune that offered love and protection. I know something terrible was hovering out of sight, wanting me, but it could not near the light. I woke up to you and Samuel.’ She gave the young man who stood with her a questioning glance. ‘Do you know what it means?’

Leopold shook his head.

‘Neither do I,’ she said, releasing his hands.

They continued their journey to the palace, Jessicah remaining quiet and pensive.

****

As soon as the dead had been cleared, work turned towards repairing the fields and pastures on the plain, scarred and furrowed with gullies from the runoff, caked in layers of salt.

Captain Valiant, now in charge of the reparation, sent his men to fix the irrigation channels from the Bardlebrook River, flushing the salty crust away. The first batch of rains helped, and by the time the Farstride was ready to sail, the first crops were sprouting to the north of the city.

The city remained in ruins. The debris from the towers had been removed and portions of the palace made liveable again—although far from its original state.

Leopold and Jessicah spent many hours together during those preparatory weeks. They helped wherever they could, mending walls, sewing clothes and assisting in the kitchens. Leopold learnt new skills, and Jessicah just as many. She hauled bricks as ably as he, and Leopold wielded needle and thread, under her patient guidance, if only it meant remaining in her company. She was not frail, as Samuel often suggested. To Leopold she was the most capable woman he had met—frequently reminding him of his mother. Still, her eyes were for Captain Orrell, and although the two rarely spoke, her face shone every time the man entered her view.

A cruel, festering jealousy crawled beneath Leopold’s skin, inching towards his heart, and he could not ignore it. Every time Jessicah’s face filled with delight, he scowled, and the captain became someone to detest. If he could, Leopold would have him left behind in Cintar while they went away on their adventure, but Leopold quickly realised he had little, if any, real power. The officers made the decisions, while he was a figurehead, saluting to the crowds as he walked, addressing the sorry survivors of Cintar.

Leopold began to brood, resenting the city and its survivors, always pestering him, calling for his blessings. When he heard the Farstride would soon depart, he was thankful to leave the broken city behind.

****

The new Emperor Leopold was folding his shirts, readying to return to the ship after several weeks, when he gained the uncomfortable feeling of someone standing behind him.

He eyed the sword sitting in its sheath on the covers beside him, folding at the same time, his pace unfaltering. He counted down from five in his head, intent on surprising the intruder. Reaching zero, he grabbed the sword and pulled it free, spinning in the same movement to face the door and crying out ‘Aha!’ as was apt in such situations.

No one was there. The space was empty and the door was shut. Shaking his head, a nervous fool, Leopold retrieved his scabbard and pressed his blade safely inside.

‘No, no, no,’ scolded a voice of disappointment and Leopold dropped his weapon in fright. ‘Why attack the poor, defenceless doorway? What has it ever done to you? I am over here!’

It was Tulan Goodwin, perched on the window sill. He stepped down and smiled at Leopold warmly. Leopold needed a moment to recover from the surprise and recognise the figure with the tight, triangular beard and moustache, perching above.

‘It’s you again.’ Leopold was relieved it had not been Samuel swooping in to chastise him or set him back to work, as he frequently did.

‘Yes, I have returned to see how you are faring. I see Cintar has been retaken—for what it’s worth. There’s more broken than remains standing. Tell me, what of Samuel? What have you learned?’

Leopold saw to the door and ensured it was bolted, before stepping closer to Tulan to reveal what he knew.

‘I have seen him use the box. He rests inside when he is spent. He said it is so his demons do not overcome him.’

‘Ah,’ Tulan mused. ‘That would explain it. I was right to assume as much. He has truly been subverted by the black arts.’ He shook his head. ‘The fool should have known, better than anyone. He is our enemy, Leopold—the enemy of the good and the righteous. Tell me, how often does he use his box?’

‘I cannot say for sure. He stays on the ship and I have not dared enter his room at night. I believe he only needs it when he has pushed himself too far—when he has used too much magic, but I could be mistaken. Perhaps he uses it every night? No, now I think of it that could not be so. It’s common knowledge he doesn’t sleep at all, and I’ve seen evidence of this myself. He sits awake all night, looking straight ahead.’

‘Intriguing. Then I know what to do. We need to catch him in his box. Inside, he is helpless, a trap of his own design. It renders him invulnerable to demons, but vulnerable to us! We must catch him unawares and lock him into it.’

‘It has latches,’ Leopold offered.

‘Good, good,’ Tulan mused happily. ‘Can you help me?’

‘I—I don’t know how.’ It was one thing to give information, another to attempt fooling Samuel. The diabolical magician knew everything. ‘What can I do?’

Tulan stalked the room, scratching his chin in contemplation. ‘You must find a way. We cannot force him. We must trick him. We must be extremely careful.’

‘I can ask him to sit in it ... to explain how it works.’

Tulan stopped pacing and looked to Leopold expectantly. ‘Does he trust you?’

‘No,’ Leopold admitted; then he had a clever thought. ‘Jessicah is the only one he trusts.’

‘Jessicah?’ Tulan said with interest. ‘Jessicah is here?’

‘Yes. You know her?’

Tulan smiled in jubilation. ‘I know of her. I heard much of her when he was young; when we were both much younger. Why, if his precious Jessicah would ask him, he would do anything. That would do finely. Can you do it? Would she help you?’ he asked of Leopold eagerly.

‘I—I don’t know. I can try. I am not sure she would knowingly bring him harm.’

‘Of course she wouldn’t—don’t be naive. You’ll have to mislead her, too. Take her to his room and get her to ask him to lie in the box. Lock the lid—done! I will wait at a distance. When I feel his presence diminish I will come. If I remain close he will sense me. Plus, I will need to put a spell upon your mind.’