Trial of Fire (64 page)

She wanted to say goodbye to Micah too, but it would take her an age to find him. Robert stood by and watched her mount up, putting his arm around Andrew’s shoulder when he joined them. As Patric and Joshi brought their horses alongside her, she took one last look at the tiny army that would free Lusara.

But she was denied such a clean departure. Before she could turn her horse for the track, she heard riders coming towards her.

‘Finnlay.’ Robert moved forward into the firelight.

Jenn saw them a moment later, all weary, saddle-sore and more than ready to arrive. She pulled her horse out of the way, shying away from the puzzled look Finnlay threw her when he saw her mounted.

‘Welcome back.’ Robert gave them something like a smile, but kept his voice quiet so as not to disturb the men sleeping. ‘A little detour, Bishop?’

‘You could say that.’ Aiden grimaced as he slid from his horse. He grunted when he hit the ground and Robert stepped forward to steady him. ‘Thank you. Next time, I’ll thank you not to let me go out on my own. Obviously I am not to be trusted.’ He looked briefly at Jenn, but instead of asking what was going on, he said to Robert, ‘I … er, brought you a surprise.’

‘A surprise?’

‘Yes. While I was with Osbert—’

He got to say no more as one of the last horses rushed forward, and an old man slipped to the ground. With a soft cry, he fell to his knees before Jenn’s horse, murmuring words she couldn’t quite hear.

‘Who’s this?’

‘This is the Hermit of Shan Moss,’ Aiden replied quietly. ‘You’ll also know him by his former name –’

Jenn knew it before he said it, knew it even as the old man raised his face towards her.

‘– of Vaughn.’

‘Oh, blessed be the goddess Mineah, divine in her every creation. We sing praises down on your merciful head, and beseech you bless us with your presence for many years to come. Surely we are gifted with a righteous victory with only the blessing of your smile.’

‘Vaughn?’ In a flash, Robert was there, hauling the old man to his
feet, turning him around, exposing him to a light Robert fashioned from his powers. ‘Serin’s blood, it is! Damn it, Aiden, where did you find him?’

‘I didn’t. He found me – or rather, he found Osbert. I believe he’s been looking for … um, Jenn.’

‘The goddess, yes, she is—’

Robert clapped a hand over the old man’s mouth. He didn’t struggle. ‘Andrew, get Deverin to bring me a gag. I want this criminal bound and anchored to a tree.’

‘Robert,’ Aiden protested. ‘He’s an old man!’

‘He’s an old man who conspired to put you in prison, would have had you executed, who led a murderous pursuit of sorcerers across Lusara, who drove a wedge between me and Selar to the point where I deserted my own country simply to keep the damned peace! If I’d been able to maintain control over Selar, none of this would ever have happened, so don’t go telling me about how he’s a feeble old man!’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to restrain him, gag him and in the morning, I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, I suggest you all get some food and some rest.’

Deverin returned then with the gag, tying it around Vaughn’s mouth before binding his hands together in front of him. Then Deverin took him away, leaving Aiden shocked and Robert pale.

In the silence, Jenn took her last look at Andrew, and then at Robert. Without a word – for only one word had the power to change them – she turned her horse and rode away, knowing Patric and Joshi were following her.

The silence of the night swallowed her up, a balm to the aches inside, giving her a little unexpected peace from all expectation, all demands, all failure. For now, there was only the present and the future. The past was, literally, behind her.

The sentries bid her goodnight as she rode by and she sent a silent prayer after them, turning her horse onto the track with great care. After that, she simply rode, keeping her thoughts on the path, her Senses stretched to the maximum and everything else tamped down in that same place where she’d pushed the anger.

Long after midnight, she paused to water the horses, dismounting to stretch her legs and wake up her numb feet. Joshi helped Patric do the same, wordlessly, silently. She’d once thought they were mindspeaking all the time, but having watched them for some weeks now, she knew it had very little to do with speech and everything to do with love.

‘Is Joshi a Seeker?’

‘All Generet can Seek, most are very competent. He can provide what you require.’

‘Good.’

‘How far do we go?’

‘Up to the approach. I want to be sure you can find it again.’

‘We’ll be there by dawn?’

‘No later.’

‘Fine. Then we should eat now.’

The food tasted like sand, but she ate it anyway. Then they mounted up again and continued on. She listened to the night sounds, studied the faint stars and a little before dawn felt the first rain they’d had in weeks – retribution for her comment about the good weather.

Finally, when the sky cleared a little, she called a halt. ‘Is this far enough?’

‘Yes,’ Patric said. ‘How long will you need?’

‘How long will it take?’

‘Before midnight tonight.’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

‘Only stay as long as you need, Pat. As soon as you’re done, leave.’

Patric opened his mouth to reply, but it was Joshi who spoke. ‘No. We stay.’ He met her eyes and repeated, ‘We stay.’

She smiled back. ‘Good luck.’

Patric said nothing, but a moment later, he allowed Joshi to lead him back down the hill. Jenn waited until they were gone, then continued on alone. It took her only a short time before she reached the end of the ravine and there she finally dismounted. She waited for the sun to rise, for it to reach the edge of the cliff above, to move down until it touched her face. She closed her eyes, smiled up into the warmth for the last time, then turned and went into the Sanctuary.

Despite his exhaustion, Finnlay rose early, only to find that almost everybody else had as well, the exceptions being the Bishop and Vaughn, whose presence still puzzled him. But he gave it little thought as he rolled his aching body out of his blankets, struggled to his hands and knees and hung his head, waiting for the dizziness to subside.

He was getting much too old for this.

With a grunt of determination, he braced himself on his little tree-trunk and pushed his feet into his boots, wincing as he found the previous day’s blisters. Why was it that shoes he’d worn almost continuously for the last six months, suddenly chose a day like today to develop blisters?

‘So you’re up at last?’

Finnlay cringed at the sound of that voice, and worse, the tone. ‘Yes, dear brother, I’m up. Why, have you another mad rescue you need me to perform?’

‘Why – do you only do mad rescues, or can I request a sane one?’

A cup of steaming brew was passed in front of his nose and he took it quickly, before it could be snatched away. He gave it a quick blow, then took a sip. It tasted good; he sighed loudly in contentment before facing his brother. ‘So, any news?’

‘Kenrick’s a day closer. Is that what you wanted to hear?’ Robert raised his eyebrows. ‘We’ll engage today some time, though I’m afraid I can’t be more precise than that.’

‘You’re slipping then. See, that’s old age for you.’

‘Well, apparently I don’t have that problem.’

‘That’s what you think,’ Finnlay grumbled as he took another sip. What really annoyed him about the whole age thing wasn’t that Robert now looked like his younger brother, but that he would eventually look like Finnlay’s son, and then his grandson. Perhaps he could have a chat to the Key after all this was over, see if they could come to some sort of agreement – he was Robert’s brother, after all.

‘Feeling better now?’ Robert was poised on the balls of his feet, as though ready to pounce the moment the word was given, which, of course, he had to be.

‘Yes, actually. Where’s Jenn?’

Robert became unnaturally still. ‘Gone.’

‘Is she coming back?’

‘No.’

‘But she has to!’ Finnlay downed the rest of his brew, then finished getting dressed. ‘You have no idea the effect she’s had on the men. They all think she’s—’

‘I know what they think she is, but ultimately, that’s got nothing to do with it. Them thinking she’s the incarnation of Mineah isn’t going to help defy the Prophecy, nor fight Nash.’

‘So you’ve got her safely out of the way.’

‘Don’t start, Finn—’

‘Because she lied to you about Andrew? I can’t believe you—’

‘Damn it, Finn—’

Finnlay stepped close, dropping his voice. ‘You love her, Robert, with your heart and soul. Do you have any idea how happy you’ve been over the last few weeks, finally being together with her? The two of you … Serin’s blood, you waited so long, and now you’re just going to throw it all away because she was afraid to tell you?’

‘What do you mean, she was afraid? Jenn’s never known a moment’s fear in her whole life.’

Finnlay blinked. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

Robert stared at him for a moment, then stepped back. ‘Look, I don’t have time to discuss this right now. I have a battle to prepare for. Whether I forgive her or not no longer matters. She’s where I want her, safely out of Nash’s way.’

‘You have to forgive her, Robert,’ Finnlay murmured, ‘or you’ll never forgive yourself.’

He got another sharp look for that, but no direct reply. Instead, he received his orders. ‘I have too much to do this morning to spend any more time training Andrew. You know more about combat than anyone else here. Take Deverin if you need a hand. I want Andrew training all day, without a break – and I don’t care how tired he gets. He’ll be a damn sight more tired by the time we’re finished with this war. Can you do that? Can you help your nephew take his throne?’

The challenge in Robert’s words were unmistakable, but there was a lot more there that made Finnlay smile. ‘Most certainly I can, brother. It will be an honour.’

As he walked off to obey, a last comment floated towards him, ‘Damned right it will be, brother.’

Grinning, Finnlay made directly for the camp kitchens, which had grown
considerably since they’d arrived a few days ago. Their numbers had increased again overnight, at a glance, he’d have to say they probably had five, perhaps six hundred men. Woefully few in comparison, of course, but it was certainly good to see the Maclean brothers, along with a number of other faces he recognised.

He found Andrew with a piece of bread in his hand, about to take a bite. Finnlay snatched it from him on his way past, taking a mouthful and admonishing his nephew, ‘You should never exercise on a full stomach. Come on, we’ve got work to do. Deverin!’

‘Yes, my lord?’

‘Bring your sword.’

‘Aye, my lord.’

‘But, Finn, I’m hun—’

He stopped and fixed his nephew with a flat stare. ‘Yes, Your Grace?’

Andrew flicked a glance to the men around them and lifted his chin. ‘Nothing. Robert and I were practising over there yesterday. It’s out of the way.’

‘Then it will do us fine today. Pass me that jug of ale. This will be thirsty work.’

‘Wait,’ Andrew said as Deverin came up behind him, ready for work, ‘is that Micah?’

Finnlay turned around to find Micah galloping towards the camp with scant regard for the uneven terrain or the steadiness of his horse. ‘Where’s Robert?’ he called out as he approached. More than a few stopped their work and looked up, in time for Robert to appear. Finnlay held his breath.

‘You need to come. Take a horse. And Duke Andrew as well.’

‘What is it?’

‘Good news, my lord. Come!’

There were saddled horses all around; the three of them mounted up and kicked the animals into motion. After all the hours Finnlay had spent on a horse over the last few days, his aches and pains rattled through him against his protesting muscles:
definitely
getting too old for this. After this war, he’d most certainly retire, go home to Dunlorn, sit down and write a book that nobody would read. And then he could spend his time doing truly useful things like choosing which crops to plant, which young men were most worthy of his daughters. And he’d do it all from his bed, without moving an inch except to bathe.

The fantasy kept him amused all the way across the plateau, with the thunder of hooves as counterpoint. Then Micah was drawing his horse to a halt, swinging down from the saddle and gesturing that they follow him.

It wasn’t until they were right on the edge of the hill that he saw why. He
caught his breath, his jaw dropping in sheer amazement. ‘I’m still asleep, aren’t I?’

‘No, my lord,’ Micah whispered in reverence.

Finnlay turned to Robert and was stunned a second time. His brother, pale-faced and powerful, had tears in his eyes at the sight before him.

‘They began arriving just after dusk,’ Micah supplied. ‘None of them wanted to try climbing up here in the dark, so they camped on the plain.’

When neither Robert nor Andrew said anything, Finnlay turned back to the unbelievable view. Spread out, from one side of the narrow plain to the other, were fighting men, preparing for the day’s battle around small campfires dotted here and there. And walking between them, giving aid and food, was the Guilde.

‘How many?’ he murmured.

‘A thousand Guilde, close on two thousand others.’

A thousand Guilde? That was all Osbert had brought with him – and that would mean that in number alone, their force was greater than Kenrick’s.

‘Don’t get too excited, brother.’ Robert swallowed hard, blinking to hide his tears. ‘These men are mostly untrained. They’re farmers and blacksmiths. Their weapons are pitchforks and anvils.’

‘They have come to fight, Father,’ Andrew said to Robert. ‘As have we. They know the risks, but they come to fight for you and for their country. I for one won’t deny them the right to fight for their own freedom.’

‘But where have they come from?’ Robert mused.

‘I sent scouts down there when I first saw them.’ Micah supplied. ‘Some are returned refugees, like my brothers, wanting to do what they can. Others are people from the villages and towns we’ve been helping over the last few months. Some have travelled across the country, hoping to find some fight they could join.’