Trial of Fire (62 page)

He refused to watch her walk away, refused to face her accusations, her lies, her sacrifices. He could barely stand as it was. ‘Because if everybody knows who you are, they’re going to think—’

‘That I’m the bastard son of Robert Douglas and Jennifer Ross – which happens to be the truth. Or am I not good enough to be your son?’

Robert’s head snapped around. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, but then he paused, seeing much in the boy’s eyes that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. ‘Oh, by the mass, you are your mother’s son.’

‘I am my father’s son, too,’ Andrew lifted his chin, and there was absolutely no fear in him now, where not too long ago, there had been too much. ‘Know where you are, my father said to me, because everything around you can change at any minute. I know exactly where I am, Father. I just need to know where you are.’

Stunned, Robert found words failed him. Andrew raised his eyebrows and moved closer. ‘You still love my mother, don’t you?’

Did he? Or was it something else after all?

‘Don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because of the Prophecy?’

And then he did look away, to where her figure was retreating into the distance. She would return later, when they had both calmed down and could work together again. ‘No, not because of the Prophecy. I can’t not love her.’

‘Me neither.’ Robert looked back to his son then, to find compassion in his eyes. ‘Please, Father, get some rest. I’ll make sure nobody wakes you. There’s nothing you need to do for a while. At midday, I’ll ask Mother to try mindspeaking Finnlay. You might be able to Seek him by then.’

‘Andrew—’

But the boy grinned cheekily. ‘When you make me into a King, I’ll be your King too, so you’ll have to obey my orders. This is a wonderful opportunity for you to get a little practice.’

Robert found a smile creasing his face. ‘Very well, sleep it is. But wake me at midday.’

‘If necessary.’

‘I mean it.’

‘Yes, Father, whatever you say.’ And with that, Andrew also turned and walked away, leaving Robert remembering that exact tone, and when he’d used it on his own father.

*

Jenn walked and walked, leaving all the heaviness behind, making for the edge of the plateau, letting the wind cool her mind, dry her tears and leave her soothed and empty. Perhaps she should have gone, and left Robert with that relative peace. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with all this, and the constant reminder of her lie. But if she left, she would be deserting both him and Andrew – and the cause of freedom in her country. That was something she could not do.

Thick heather on the ground made walking an energetic exercise, forcing her to lift her feet with every step. By the time she reached the edge, the sun was truly up, warming the cold, brightening the landscape. The slope down to the valley was steep, which was why Robert had chosen this place. It was almost a fort in itself, and much easier to defend than a forest.

She continued following the edge, where the heather was shorter, battered by the wind. The country below was beautiful indeed and, even ignoring the circumstances, more than worth the effort of the climb.

Feeling better with each step, she finally reached the first of the three approaches to the plateau, where half a dozen men stood guard, hunched
down in the heather, out of the wind, keeping watch in every direction. They all looked up as she reached them, but only Micah stood to welcome her, and he did so with a smile.

‘There are easier ways to get exercise,’ he said, gesturing to where he was sitting, and she accepted the invitation with a faint smile of her own.

‘I take it all is quiet?’

‘You would know otherwise.’

‘Good.’ Jenn let her gaze wander over the valley again, and north, to the hills and mountains of Nanmoor, just visible in the distance. The Key was there, safely away from Nash, and Robert was wishing she was there with it.

‘Any news?’

‘About McCauly? No, not yet. Robert’s tried Seeking Braden and Finnlay, but he’s a little too tired to achieve much. I believe he’s resting at the moment. He’ll try again later.’

Micah grunted, but she felt his eyes on her as he asked, ‘He didn’t take the news well, did he?’

Jenn casually glanced around; the other men were far too close for her to be too explicit in her reply. ‘Not well, no. At least, not to my part. The rest – well, he couldn’t be happier.’

‘Yes, that much was obvious. For both of them.’

‘You think so?’

‘Absolutely. Andrew is changed.’

Jenn looked up at him then, finding a smile in Micah’s eyes and wishing she had one in her own.

‘Micah? There’s another group approaching.’

The voice came from their left; one of the sentries was raising his arm and pointing at ten men on horseback, riding steadily, in no particular hurry, yet obviously aiming for Rona. They slowed as they arrived at the bottom of the track, moving into single file, walking.

‘They’ve been trickling through since we got here,’ Micah said. ‘I don’t know how much good they’ll do us, but it’s nice to have them.’

‘They could make all the difference. You can never tell what’s going to happen.’

‘Unless you have Prophecy,’ Micah murmured in reply. ‘And now we wait?’

‘Now we wait.’

‘Robert knows what he’s doing.’

‘Robert always knows what he’s doing.’ Jenn said this as much for Micah as herself, as much for the men sitting around her guarding the track, and for the men riding up the slope towards them—

‘Serin’s blood!’ Micah froze where he sat, making Jenn look at him. His
eyes widened in deep shock, and then he was on his feet. ‘No, it can’t be! I must be seeing things!’

‘What is it?’ Jenn rose, all ready to call the alarm to Robert.

Micah went to take a step forward, checked himself, then took it after all. As the first rider broached the top of the hill, Micah broke into the biggest smile she’d ever seen on her face. ‘My brothers! All of them! Every single damned one of them!’

He ran forward then, to drag the first one down from his horse. With laughter, the others arrived, jumping down to embrace their youngest sibling, smiles and grins on the faces of every man present.

After a few minutes, Micah rushed back to her. ‘Come, please, you have to meet them or I’ll be thinking I am imagining this,’ he said as he took her hand and dragged her down to the group: all the men looked like Micah in one way or another. She had known he came from a big family, but this was ridiculous.

‘Jenn, these are my brothers, Talcott, Ralph, Lambert, Kaniel and Durrill. These other two, Ian and Timor, are my sister’s husbands. The young ones are my nephews, Peron and Savin.’

‘We would have brought more of the clan with us,’ Durrill grinned, sharing a look with his brothers, ‘but we needed to leave somebody behind to look after the women.’

This statement was greeted with so much laughter, Jenn was left in very little doubt as to how much looking after was actually required.

‘This is—’ Micah went to continue his introduction, but Durrill interrupted.

‘This isn’t your wife, is it? Only, I never thought you had so much good taste, Micah.’

Another round of laughter ensued, which Jenn couldn’t help but join in with. She’d only met Micah’s father once, and none of his brothers. Micah seemed to have grown a permanent smile at their arrival.

‘My wife?’

‘Mother told us you’d married.’

‘Oh, no.’ Micah grimaced a little in apology to Jenn. ‘My wife is not here. This is … um—’

Before he could mangle up the introduction any further, Jenn intervened. ‘I’m Jenn,’ she said, smiling.

Almost as one, they bowed, with the younger ones giggling and elbowing each other. But then – was it Talcott? – frowned a little. ‘Jenn? As in Jennifer Ross?’

‘The same.’

‘Oh.’

‘Why?’

‘Nothing. We’ve just heard a lot about you,’ Talcott said, recovering quickly.

‘From Micah,’ Durrill added.

‘His letters home,’ Ralph clarified.

‘Of course,’ Jenn agreed, knowing full well they were all lying, at least a little. Still, not that it mattered; after all—

Jenn? Can you hear me?

She closed her eyes and shut out the smiling faces and the noise, concentrating on the voice in her head, holding onto it, strengthening the connection.
Yes, Finn, I can hear you. Are you all right? Robert couldn’t Seek you and he’s been worried
.

I’m fine – and I found McCauly. You’d be surprised how good he looks in Guilde yellow, though he says it makes him look jaundiced.

Is he well
?

Completely unscathed. John, Braden and Edain are fine as well. They were already on their way to rejoin us. It appears Osbert let them go, and organised the Guilde uniforms so they could travel unmolested.

Any idea why
?

No – but he’s collected a – a souvenir on the way, but you’ll see that for yourself when we return. I just wanted to let you know that we’re all fine. That and … well, Osbert told the Bishop that Kenrick is on his way.

On his way
?

To Rona
.

So it was happening.
I’ll tell Robert. When do you expect to be back
?

Tonight some time. We haven’t stopped except to change horses. The poor Bishop’s about ready to collapse, but he doesn’t want to rest until he reaches Rona.

We’ll be ready with a heather mattress for him.

I’ll tell him.

Take care
.

Jenn opened her eyes to find a dozen men staring at her, anticipation heavy in the air. ‘The Bishop is safe. They’re on their way back.’ At their smiles, she turned and began walking back to camp.
Robert? Are you awake
?

I’m supposed to be asleep.

Good – I’ve just heard from Finnlay. He has McCauly and they’ll be back tonight. They’re all fine. And Kenrick is heading for Rona.

There was a long silence, broken finally when he replied,
Thank you
. And then he was gone.

*

‘No. If you do it like that, he’ll have you in the first few minutes.’ Robert
changed Andrew’s grip on his sword, then stepped back again. ‘Now, you need to remember that your powers are a part of you. They come from inside, and only emerge when you want them to. If you retain control, you can do just about anything with them. If you lose control, they could just as easily kill you as anyone around you. Believe me, it has happened. Retaining control is a matter of concentration and patience – and over all, you have to believe you can do it. Most importantly, you need to control your emotions. This much is the same for any fighting skills, arcane or otherwise: you can’t allow your anger to rule your actions. For a sorcerer, losing control of your emotions will lose you control of your power. Being afraid of your abilities will only make you question your judgment.’

‘But I hardly know what my abilities are.’ Andrew widened his stance a little, peering up to where the sun sat low on the horizon. ‘How do I know I can even fight?’

Robert drew his own sword again and stepped back, ready to engage. ‘As far as I can tell, just about everybody can fight. How good they are is a matter of training.’

‘Of which I have almost none.’

‘Of which you will have plenty if you stop talking and start practising.’

Andrew grinned. ‘Well, go on then,’ he challenged.

Sighing dramatically, Robert brought his sword up, feeling the power flow through him in a familiar manner, a grim, but necessary comfort. Almost instantly, his blade began to glow a little, just enough to make Andrew’s smile widen.

‘This isn’t a game.’

The smile vanished immediately, and Andrew began to concentrate. Without warning, Robert swung his sword, as they had done hundreds of times over the last weeks, and Andrew parried, the ring of steel clear in the late afternoon, cushioned by the heather around them, and the small wind still blowing.

Deliberately, Robert pushed a little harder, making his blade glow more brightly, letting Andrew get a feel for what he was doing – and then in one rush, he pushed as hard as he could.

With a grunt, Andrew was lifted into the air and thrown back a dozen feet. He landed in a tangle of arms and legs. Robert said nothing and held his breath as Andrew got back on his feet and returned with his sword up and ready, all suggestion of fun gone from his visage.

‘How much chance is there that he’s going to be as strong as you?’

‘Kenrick? I couldn’t say – but people have been telling me for years that I’m stronger than anyone else. I’ve never fought Kenrick, though I’d suggest that he’s had some training.’

‘From Nash?’

‘I doubt it. For all that they’re allies, they’re also rivals. If I were Nash, I’d severely limit the amount of training I’d give Kenrick.’

‘And we’re very glad you’re not Nash.’ Andrew studied the end of his sword a moment, then met Robert’s eyes again. ‘Are you going to use that much force each time?’

‘Why?’

‘It’s just that I think I’ll change position so I land in the heather next time.’

Robert could only laugh. ‘Come on. It’s almost dark. We’ve still got a lot to do before bed time.’

*

Jenn was about to get up to wash out her bowl, but it was taken from her before she could move. As the soldier moved away, she smiled. ‘I’m starting to feel a little useless.’

‘Why?’ Patric tilted his head. ‘Because they won’t let you do any work?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, that just says to me they think you have much more important things to do than wash dishes.’

‘Like what?’

‘Keeping me entertained?’

‘Which would be true if I were more entertaining.’ Jenn leaned back on her hands and started to turn her head, to look for the tenth time to where Robert and Andrew were.

‘They’re still at it,’ Patric said.

‘They’ve been at it all day.’ Though it was dark, she could see their movements clearly, lit as they were by the light of their glowing swords. It gave her some comfort to see that Andrew’s was as bright as Robert’s. On the other hand, she would have felt a whole lot better if they had allowed her a little closer.