Trial of Fire (58 page)

Andrew stood there, chest heaving, trying to breathe, trying to comprehend.

‘It’s safe now, Andrew. You can let it go. You can’t hurt me or your mother. Our power won’t let us hurt each other. Let it go.’

‘Please,’ Andrew whispered, and then, abruptly, the flames fell, Andrew’s eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed forward, caught in Robert’s arms. Sinking to the ground with his burden, Robert cradled Andrew’s head against his shoulder, kissing his forehead, holding him against the pain.

‘Just let it go, son,’ Robert whispered, closing his eyes. ‘You’re safe now.’

Then the forest was silent once more.

Finnlay started forward when he saw Andrew collapse in Robert’s arms, but in that same instant, he heard the urgent thunder of a horse approaching. Micah careened to a halt, his breath coming in gusts.

‘Have to leave now – Guilde coming; we’ll be surrounded within the hour!’

‘Get the horses,’ he cried, and ran towards Robert and Jenn, though unwilling to break the moment. Only Jenn appeared to see him, and that through a veil of tears. ‘We need to move now,’ he told her.

She wiped a hand across her eyes, then got up and took her horse from Micah as Finnlay turned to Robert.

His brother was already moving. ‘Can you help me? I don’t think he’s able to walk.’

‘Walk?’ Finnlay grunted, taking half Andrew’s weight as Robert stood up. ‘I don’t think he’s capable of speech at the moment.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll carry him. Just help me get him onto the horse.’

It was a struggle, but eventually, Robert was mounted up, his son half lying across the saddle in front of him, his head on Robert’s shoulder, Robert’s arms holding him in place as he held his reins. Then Finnlay got onto his own mount and followed as Robert led the way into the woods.

‘Did you find the others?’ Robert asked of Micah.

‘Yes. McCauly and John had already gone on earlier in the day.’

‘Alone?’

‘Edain and Braden were with him. All the others got away before I left the town. As I was leaving I saw Osbert’s advance guard. If he follows standard practice, he’ll split his troops into three and send some in this direction. We’ll need to be very careful.’

‘Aye, we will at that.’

‘Where should we go?’ Finnlay asked, pulling up to ride alongside Robert. Andrew lay unconscious against him, unaware of anything.

‘I don’t think we have a choice.’ Robert indicated the direction they were already heading. ‘We’ve run out of time, and Kenrick is forcing our hand. The others are all on their way, and we should be too.’

Finnlay’s heart sank. He knew as well as any what that meant. Long ago Robert had picked out the site for this battle, this last confrontation between tyrant and rebels. All the other groups, having caused their share of mayhem, having provoked Kenrick to leave the safety of his capital, were now making their way towards Rona.

In his research for the origins of the Prophecy and of sorcery, Finnlay had once come across an odd story about Rona, about an old man who’d saved everything he had to give his daughter a dowry fit for a lord. The night before her wedding, his baggage train had been robbed crossing Rona. He lost everything and, with a broken heart, died then and there. It was said that his ghost still haunted the wilds of Rona and that all who went there with thievery in their hearts would perish.

Finnlay hoped that the stories were true.

He brought his horse to a halt as Robert held up his hand and let his Senses roam at will, coursing through the night until they reached the road. Jenn sat in silence, her face white, her eyes only shadows. She gripped her reins as though they were her last chance of life. She kept her eyes steadfastly ahead, looking at nobody. Finnlay desperately wanted to give her a hug, but she would have to deal with this on her own. Micah, wary for his own reasons, glanced at Robert; though he’d missed the drama, he was well aware that something momentous had happened.

‘There’re at least three hundred of them,’ Robert whispered after a moment. ‘Godfrey said a thousand in total. They’re not actively looking for us, so we’ll wait for them to pass.’

Finnlay settled, keeping his own Senses open, listening for the soldiers, feeling their quiet comments, their exhaustion, their fear and trepidation of this coming war. And then they were gone and the night regained its calm – at least, on the outside.

‘This way,’ Robert murmured, kicking his horse into movement.

They all followed, keeping silent still in the night, ignoring tiredness and yawns, the sounds of the land around them, small lights in the distance marking the occasional farmstead.

When dawn rose hours later, Finnlay knew he’d been dozing in the saddle. Robert called a halt to water the horses and to swop onto Andrew’s, so his own could rest; the double burden was heavy on the animal. Andrew slept still, there was little conversation and, an hour later, they were on the road again, travelling north-east towards Rona.

Halfway through the day, Micah left them to buy food from a nearby market, but they didn’t stop to eat. More than once, Finnlay offered to carry Andrew, but Robert shook his head, his lips set in a grim line, as silent in his determination as Jenn. Though Andrew still hadn’t woken, he could
only assume that if Jenn had seen something bad with her Healer’s Sight, she would have said so.

For so many years he’d wanted his brother to know the truth about Andrew, but he’d never thought for one moment that it would happen like this, now, when they could least afford such a distraction.

Would Andrew recover, and if he did, would he hate both his parents, or be dangerously alienated from one or the other? Neither Finnlay nor Micah could afford to claim ignorance either; there would be a reckoning with Robert on that score as well.

But if nothing else, at last Finnlay would at last be allowed to be openly proud of his nephew. At least within this circle.

They zigzagged across the country, taking what cover they could, keeping well away from Kenrick’s troops marching south. Soon enough they would return, and then there would be no more avoidance.

By nightfall, they were all ready to drop, but still Robert kept going, leading them along the narrow valley and up to the pass of Rona. On the higher ground he paused, did a final sweep of the area and pronounced it safe. Then they headed downhill a little to the copse he’d chosen as a meeting place for his rebels.

They were welcomed by Owen, Deverin and all their men, together with those who’d joined up since. In all there were almost one hundred of them ready to fight, the core of an army that would probably not survive the week.

Robert said very little to anyone, leaving Finnlay to take charge while he took Andrew to where there was shade beneath an old oak, built a small fire and wrapped blankets around the boy. An hour later, Finnlay found him still there, taking him a plate of food and a cup of ale. Robert had barely moved, sitting with his back to a tree, his hand on Andrew’s head, now and then smoothing the hair down.

Andrew was not the only one who needed time.

Finnlay put the plate down beside Robert, then, without asking, he sat as well. Andrew’s eyes were still closed.

‘Is he going to be all right?’

‘Yes,’ Robert said, then as though he’d just awakened, he noticed the plate beside him. ‘Thanks. I’m hungry.’ With that, he picked it up and began spooning chicken stew into his mouth like it was the first food he’d had in a year.

Finnlay waited until Robert was wiping the last of the juices with a crust of bread before saying, ‘The Prophecy never said anything directly.’ Robert didn’t react. Instead, he put his plate down and returned to his former position, with his hand on his son’s head.

Finnlay continued, the words falling into the quiet night, ‘That was the whole point of the Bonding, so that Andrew would be conceived, so that he would be this boy, this man, this King. That’s why Thraxis created the Marks, so he could keep track of each Bonding through the ages, until this one between you and Jenn. And now that he’s born, Andrew has no need of a Mark, because he’s what was planned all along.’

Robert said nothing, but turned to look down at Andrew’s still form. ‘And just like me,’ he whispered eventually, ‘he has no choice about what he is, what he will do with his life.’

There was silence a moment, then Robert said, ‘I don’t want to leave him alone until he wakes, until we can be sure his powers are under control. Will you sit with him for a few minutes?’

‘Of course.’

Robert rose slowly, as though reluctant to leave, and then, without another word, he turned and headed towards the camp, his head bowed as though he had been once more beaten and tortured.

*

She’d thought of simply running, but that cowardice was beyond her. She’d made the decision a long time ago: if there were awful consequences, she would face them, come what may. She would make him understand. She had to.

She wasn’t surprised when she looked up from making her bed to find Robert walking across the camp towards her. Though it was late, there were enough men still up to notice his passage, though none seemed willing to stop him. From the look on his face, she didn’t blame them.

When he reached her, he looked not at her, but instead, at the place where she’d laid out her blankets, her saddle and other meagre possessions. Then he gestured, and said, ‘Come with me.’

She followed him away from camp, not caring now what people might say about them. After all, what could they say that wasn’t true?

Robert came to a halt at the edge of the last trees, where the brook trickled out into open moorland. Though the moon was three-quarters full now, there was still enough light to be had between the skipping clouds silver-lined by it. Fear flooded through her.

He kept his back to her as he said, ‘I was supposed to tell you: it seems the people of Fenlock and the surrounds of Elita believe you to be the new incarnation of Mineah. There are already nuns who have set up a religious order dedicated to you in what I left of your father’s keep. At some point in the future, you may want to visit them and disabuse them of the idea that you are … at all related to the goddess.’

Robert fell silent then, leaving Jenn to unravel this ridiculous announcement,
then he finally turned, allowing his eyes to rise and meet hers. What she saw there turned her heart to ice. How could she ever make him understand?

‘I see now what it was you’ve been hiding from me all these years. I suppose I have you to thank also for Finnlay and Micah? Who else? At a guess I’d say Fiona, possibly Martha and Arlie. And of course, your sister and her husband. Any others I should know about?’

Jenn kept her silence. He stared at her, as though he still couldn’t believe she’d done this. His face was clouded, his voice thick, his eyes dangerously moist.

‘I had so much trouble convincing myself to trust you, but I always thought that the moment you joined the Key, you would be under its influence, and therefore, I couldn’t be sure of anything you did or said. But this goes way beyond that. This lie has been between us for more than fifteen years, long before you joined with the Key, and despite your promises, you still kept it from me. You must have known that I would have willingly taken responsibility for him, and yet you— Did you think I would not be fit to be his father? That he would be better off not knowing me?’ He swallowed hard; the struggle to keep his composure showed in every line of his body. Finally, he said, ‘Tomorrow you will go back to the Sanctuary. I don’t want to see you again.’

Shock and horror swept through her like a maelstrom, but her protest died on her lips as he held up his hand, blinking hard. ‘You are such a weakness to me, do you know that? Such a distraction. The Prophecy kept telling me we were on opposite sides and I didn’t want to know. What man would want to know that the woman he loved would one day …’ He stopped, his voice fading at the last. Then he straightened up, putting on that public face so many saw and so few really understood.

He walked past her then, but she stopped him, determined to at least try. ‘I was married, Robert. How could I have told you? But you never asked. Not once. Even when you could, even when it no longer mattered. Not once in fifteen years did you ask. You know you should have, you know I would have answered you honestly – but you didn’t. Answer me that, Robert. Why didn’t you ask me if Andrew was your son?’

‘What difference would it have made?’

‘I didn’t know if you
wanted
him!’

Robert stared at her a moment, then growled, ‘You go in the morning. Don’t ever come back.’

‘No, Robert,’ she said quietly, as stubborn as he. ‘I won’t go. Not this time. It doesn’t matter if you hate me – it’s no longer your decision alone. I’m staying. There is too much at stake for us to be split apart like this.’

‘You should have thought about that before you decided to keep this lie.’ And with that, he was gone.

*

Sounds came to him softly, like they were wrapped up in silk clothing and dressed for a summer’s day. He breathed deeply, allowing the fresh scent to fill him, to wake him properly, to draw into his body and bring him back to life. But when had he died?

Andrew opened his eyes. There were trees above him, littered with newborn leaves, dancing in some faint breeze, and above that, heavy clouds threatening rain soon. He sat up, feeling no discomfort, no pain, not even any memory – until he felt the hand resting on his arm and turned to find Robert asleep beside him, a blanket rolled up as a pillow, his face lined with exhaustion.

And in the space of one breath, he remembered it all.

Robert was his father. Not Eachern, Kenrick’s father’s cousin. Not the monster all Lusarans hated as a butcher and a murderer, but Robert. Robert Douglas, Duke of Haddon. Which made Finnlay his uncle, Fiona his aunt – Helen and the girls his cousins, Lady Margaret his grandmother.

And his mother a liar.

Or did it? Had she lied to him? Had he ever asked, is Eachern my father? No, of course not, but a lie of omission was still a lie. She’d never told him, never told Robert, and so by definition, she had lied.