Back From Chaos (27 page)

Those of Wernost’s council who still survived turned immediately to Merlost for solutions. Without Wernost to tell them what to do, they were at a loss. His secretiveness and tight control had left the council without the courage or the skills to make the hard decisions. While Merlost welcomed his untimely rise to power, he, too, was unprepared for leadership. Even had he been trained properly to his new position, he still would have been unprepared for the panic and chaos that presented itself. One thing became clear. The campaign to annex Catania would have to wait, at least until order could be restored. Wilnor would receive no assistance from Lieth.

~ 60 ~

KLAST RETURNS

Klast entered Bargia unseen just as dusk lengthened the shadows. The red glow on the horizon was blocked by the wall, and he had to find his opening almost by feel in the dim light. As soon as he emerged into the street he hailed a guard and ordered him to summon Gaelen to a meeting. He gave him the copper ring and proceeded directly to their usual cell, where he paced anxiously. The pull he felt to go to Brensa had become so strong it was all he could do to remain and wait for Gaelen. But dedication to duty prevailed, and he stayed where he was.

Gaelen hurried in within less than a span, holding his hand up to forestall Klast from speaking, and asked, “Is there anything that requires my immediate attention?” When Klast shook his head, Gaelen gave him no time to speak. “Klast, Brensa has fallen ill. She calls out for you.”

Klast yanked the door open and was already halfway out when duty caught him. He looked back at Gaelen, his hand still on the latch.

“
Go,” Gaelen said, gesturing his own urgency for Klast to leave.

Klast needed no second invitation. He charged down the hall, out into the street and raced to Brensa’s chamber. When the lone guard at the door tried to prevent him from entering, he knocked him aside with one sweep of his arm and burst in. He showed no recognition of Marja there, and simply roared, “Get out!” as he dropped to his knees beside the bed where Brensa lay.

The force of his outburst sent Marja hurrying to the door. Then, she stopped, hand on the latch.

As Klast glanced at her in distracted irritation, she raised her chin haughtily and declared, with ice in her voice, “Do not forget that I love her, too.”

And she left, closing the door behind her.

~ 61 ~

LIVE!

By the time Marja reached the door, Klast had already scooped Brensa up and lowered himself halfway into the waiting chair. He had turned his head as Marja spoke to him. While her statement did not register now, later he would remember it and realize how much Marja had sacrificed to look after Brensa. It brought him to a new level of respect for Marja that recognized her devotion to those she loved.

At this moment, Klast knew only fear for Brensa. She must not die. The man so proud of his self control now found that quality abandoning him. The logic he had relied on so heavily had fled. Wetness covered his cheeks and dripped onto the top of Brensa’s head. It did not register. He did not know he was weeping. He had not been able to weep since Rand had held him prisoner. Now, one thought kept repeating. “You must live!”

Soon, without being aware that he did so, he began to rock Brensa like a small child, and the lullaby he had crooned to her in the cave found voice again between gasps for air and gulping tears. Something in him sensed that this might be the only way to reach her, as it had that other time. All of this he did without conscious thought. It came unbidden.

Gradually, Brensa relaxed in his arms and seemed to fall into a more natural sleep. Somehow, at some level, Klast knew she sensed his presence. As her spirit recognized him, her body lost its tension. She sank into Klast’s chest like a babe asleep in her mother’s arms. Her breathing quieted, and she no longer twitched and flailed in delirium as she had when calling out for him.

As Brensa calmed, Klast found the presence of mind to look about the room for anything he could give her to drink. His eyes fell on a bowl of cooled beef tea, some raspberry leaves to make a strengthening brew and the small brazier that had been placed beside the bed to heat water. With his one free hand, he reheated the broth and carefully helped her to swallow some, spoonful by spoonful. Klast was well aware of the need for liquids to bring down the fever and to sustain her.

Brensa did not regain consciousness as he fed her the nourishing broth but moaned slightly with each swallow, occasionally choking as the liquid slid down her parched throat. In time, she refused any more, and Klast set about boiling water for the tea. To it he added some of the willow bark he always carried in his belt pouch, to bring down her fever. This done, he set it aside to steep at the edge of the brazier. With some satisfaction, he spied a jar of honey. That would take some of the bitterness away from the willow bark and provide a little nourishment. Through all of this, he kept her on his lap and continued to croon the snatch of melody that was all he remembered of that lullaby from long ago.

She slept for several spans. Klast kept his vigil, never allowing his eyes to close lest he miss clues that she might wake, or, Earth forbid, show signs of getting worse. He shrank from that possibility and pushed it from his mind.

During his vigil, a revelation dawned on him, one he had avoided with stubborn determination ever since he had returned Brensa to Marja’s care. He loved her. This small slip of a girl had, in spite of the high walls he had built around himself, slipped past his carefully guarded barriers and awakened feelings he had long believed himself incapable of. He could no longer convince himself that he was beyond feeling. The realization shook him deeply. Caring about another opened a man to weakness, a definite liability in a spy.

Slowly, the silence and the warm, lax form of the girl in his arms, so frail and light, soothed his mind just enough that he began to accept this new insight into himself. He could never go back to the stone he had been. Once breached, those walls could not be mended or rebuilt. It occurred to him through his hypnotic lassitude of exhaustion that he no longer wanted to. In spite of the pain, this felt right and good.

Klast had known for some time that Brensa trusted no man but him, that she was in love with him. His aloofness from her had been deliberate, from the belief that this was best for them both. He had already explained to her that he could never have a relationship with a woman. He had nothing to offer a woman … or so he reasoned. Both his own nature and the nature of his work made it so. To think otherwise was pure folly.

It had not occurred to him that Brensa might disagree, that she might prefer the lonely times and the uncertainty around his safety to the life at court she now lived. He only believed that he knew best. There was no point in discussing it.

Now, as he faced the possibility that he might lose her, he could no longer deny that he had been running from himself. And even more, that he no longer wanted to run … or to be alone. The solitude that had for so long seemed his sanctuary now felt more like a prison.

~ 62 ~

EARTH NEEDS THEM

At the same moment that Klast had received permission from Gaelen to go to Brensa, Liethis made ready to return to Bargia. Liethis sensed the plague had run its course. Though it was the last thing she wished to do, she knew she must go to Bargia in order to speak with Klast. If that proved impossible, she needed to give her message to Gaelen, so he could pass it on. The future of Bargia and its neighbours depended on it.

Earth had shown her that there was only one clear way to restore the Balance that the war and ensuing plague had disrupted. She sensed both pain and triumph in the signs. Balance was necessary if the lands and their peoples were to avoid further upheavals.

And somehow this required that Klast and Brensa make peace with each other. Klast must not avoid her any longer. Earth had shown Liethis She needed Brensa for the role she was destined to play. And Brensa needed Klast. Earth had not revealed to Liethis what Klast’s and Brensa’s roles would be, but she felt a sense of urgency around the sending that she could not deny. Something momentous lay dormant, waiting to waken.

* * *

Brensa’s fever broke, and she wakened in Klast’s embrace. Klast remained in the room for two more days, until she was able to sit up and take some solids.

Only when he reassured her that he would not leave the room until she woke again did she agree to be placed in her bed for more healing sleep.

No-tail resumed her former position, once more tucked firmly under Brensa’s chin. She had kept her own vigil, watching Klast minister to Brensa from a vantage under a table, and seemed relieved to have her place back.

Marja had come in several times after the first crucial day to bring food and check on her friend. By tacit agreement between Marja and Klast, all others were refused entry, even Gaelen.

By this time, Liethis had reached Bargia and taken up residence in her customary chamber. As soon as she had settled, she hurried to meet Gaelen and Marja where she knew she would find them, close to Brensa’s chamber.

~ 63 ~

REPRISE

Liethis explained the importance of encouraging the bond between Klast and Brensa. But she told him it would be unwise to rush him, and so they agreed to wait until Klast came to them.

Marja had a maid ready with clean sheets when Klast finally emerged, and sent another for a tub and hot water so that she might bathe Brensa. Brensa managed a weak laugh when No-tail hissed and retreated to a corner at the sight of water being poured into the copper tub.

The tub filled, Marja dismissed the servants, barred the door and assisted Brensa into her bath. Brensa needed to lean heavily on Marja, and they almost fell into the tub together. The near pratfall brought a fit of hysterical giggling from the women, and helped break the long tension both had endured since the plague arrived. Marja had to hold Brensa tightly during their fit of laughter, so that she did not slip too deeply into the water, as she was still too weak to hold on herself.

Once Marja had Brensa firmly tucked back in her clean bed she emerged from the chamber, exhausted but still smiling. She sought out Klast, Gaelen and Liethis, still quietly conferring in the lord’s chambers, and brought them up to date on Brensa’s progress.

At Marja’s reassurance that Brensa slept comfortably, Klast remained with the others to continue their discussion. Their discussion finished, they all emerged back into the hall.

When Marja saw Klast sway on his feet she recalled that the man had not slept for days. She watched Gaelen catch Liethis’ eye, and Liethis nod her head in understanding. Liethis stood nearest to the door to Brensa’s chamber. She opened it and gave Klast a small push into the room, indicating the cot next to Brensa’s bed with a short nod of her head and an ironic smile. Klast gave Gaelen a questioning look.

Gaelen nodded. “There will be time enough to speak later, my friend. Come to me when you have rested and are able to leave Brensa for a few spans.”

Liethis pulled the door firmly shut behind him.

~ 64 ~

CAPTURE

Klast had made a number of inquiries before Gaelen sent him to Catania. Questions such as how he might get information about ridding Bargia of the threat of this new rule, one in which its new lord’s woman had too much influence. His probing had produced no results.

On this night, the man of many disguises went out in the same trader’s guise he had used in the bath house before the plague.

Those he had tried to make contact with had been very canny and so far had not approached him, despite his efforts to appear available. Now, with the plague all but over, he could renew his efforts.

With his usual skill, he feigned discreetness, clumsily and without true finesse. He wanted to be caught, to find out how he might infiltrate those responsible for carrying out Sinnath’s plans.

Again, night had arrived with no success. Klast, exhausted, started in the direction of his small chamber for some food and sleep. Fatigue and discouragement took the edge off his usual vigilance, so he missed the appearance of the five men who converged on him in the short alley until they were on him.

Before he could react, a bag descended over his head, his weapons were swiftly stripped from him and his hands were tied tightly behind his back. He made a sham of struggling, making sure not to appear too skilled. With a show of indignation and fear, he obeyed the order to, “Shut up and go quiet, or we will finish you.” While he had not counted on being taken by surprise, the situation fell neatly into his plans.

They half led, half dragged him through several more alleyways, no doubt intending to confuse him. Finally, they shoved him into a building with the smell and chill of a warehouse. Klast’s wits, now sharpened by renewed adrenalin, had no trouble keeping track of their movements, so he knew exactly where they had taken him. This building was one of Sinnath’s warehouses.

Long years of training had taught him such skills. But his captors must not know that. His survival depended on anonymity and his ability to convince them that, in his assumed identity, they had nothing to fear and possibly an ally to gain. So he stumbled more than necessary, bumping into each man that held him, gleaning information as he did so. One smelled like a heavy drinker, the odour of sour wine penetrating through the scent of barley from the flour bag over his head. The other badly needed a bath. No refinement there. He could also tell they were inexperienced in taking prisoners. Not trained soldiers, then. Good.