Exile's Return (Book 1) (25 page)

No. Robert sighed and sat down on the cold stone wall. For all that Jacob was an intelligent, honourable man, he had no idea of the truth, of how the whole thing had really begun. Jacob, like everybody else, only saw what had happened and had drawn his own conclusions. None of them had ever bothered to find out how the state of affairs had really come into place. Selar himself had never spoken of it – and with good reason. And Robert had never told the story because it would damage all he’d worked to achieve in the first place.

He looked up at the sky again as the clouds in the east drew together, growing more menacing. It was possible there would be a storm later—

There had been a storm that day, too. That day when Selar had come to see him.

*

Robert dropped the book and dashed across his study before too much rain could be driven through the swinging shutter. As he reached the window he thrust his arm out into the rain to grab hold of the shutter. Icy needles stung his face, but before he pulled it closed, he caught sight of something in the courtyard below. Two dozen mounted soldiers. He frowned and pulled the shutter closed. Turning back to the fire, he slowly rubbed his hands together, drying them off.

So – his time had come at last.

Two years of imprisonment and finally, soldiers bearing
the royal colours had arrived unannounced at his door. That alone was not a good sign, but for the moment, all he could do was stand before the fire and wait. It wasn’t a long wait however. A knock at the door and Robert called out an answer. His bailey, Owen Fitzalan, entered, out of breath and agitated.

‘My lord, you have visitors.’

‘So I see,’ Robert folded his arms. ‘Anyone I know?’

‘It’s the King, my lord!’ Owen threw a glance over his shoulder. Footsteps on the stairs beyond the door hastened his words. ‘He’s brought soldiers, my lord. I fear …’

‘It’s all right, Owen. Find my brother and keep him to his rooms. Tell him that’s my order. Then go down and get those men out of the rain.’

Owen frowned, then nodded and took a deep breath. ‘If you’re sure, my lord? There are not too many of them. Deverin has your men ready …’

Robert smiled, though it was an effort. ‘No. It’s too late for that. If I’d wanted to run, I would have done it two years ago. Just keep Finnlay out of harm’s way.’

‘Very well, my lord.’ Owen bowed and stepped aside as two liveried guards came through the door, followed by a man Robert didn’t recognize. Behind them all came Selar. Robert carefully placed his hands behind his back and nodded towards Owen, sending him on his way. Then he turned his attention to the man who was now King of Lusara.

Selar’s imposing figure dominated the room. He almost swaggered as he gazed around at the simple furnishings of Robert’s study. The guards remained by the door while the other man strode up to Robert, an expression of contempt on his stocky face. A neck, bull-like and heavy, was encased in chain mail, like an obedient dog with a collar. He glared at Robert with sullen intensity, but Robert allowed it to merely wash over him. This man was not the real danger.

‘So,’ the man began, ‘this is the one who would cause us so much trouble, Sire. He’s young, little more than a boy. Or is this the younger brother?’

‘No, this is Dunlorn, Eachern. He’s the one.’ Selar appeared entirely unconcerned, wandering around and glancing at books and papers scattered across the table which ran down the centre of the room. Robert was relieved he’d put away all his most dangerous papers that morning, although he doubted it would add too much to his current troubles if this man were to discover Robert was a sorcerer – but it never hurt to be careful.

‘What’s wrong, lad, nothing to say for yourself?’ Eachern grunted at Robert. ‘Have you no words of respect for your sovereign?’

Robert kept his eyes on Selar and said nothing.

‘I’m talking to you, boy!’ Eachern bellowed. He reached out and grabbed Robert’s shoulder, but Robert anticipated the move and caught the other man’s hand in time. With lightning speed, he twisted around until Eachern was pinned with his arm across his back. A little invisible exertion of power was enough to make Eachern’s knees buckle beneath him and with a thud he fell to the floor. Robert let go and stood back, his eyes returning to Selar.

‘You’re an idiot, Eachern,’ Selar grunted. ‘Get up. Leave us.’

‘But, Sire …’

‘I said, go!’

Eachern climbed to his feet and, with a glare in Robert’s direction, stomped out of the room, taking the guards with him. As the door slammed shut behind him, Selar wandered over to the small table by the window on which stood a flask of wine. He poured himself a cup, took a mouthful and turned back to Robert.

‘I never thanked you,’ he said quietly, ‘for saving my life. It didn’t seem appropriate at the time and I had other problems to worry about. Still, I’m glad you pulled me out of that river, Dunlorn – even though I dare say you wouldn’t have done it if you’d known at the time who I was.’

Robert knew Selar was waiting for a reply so he said nothing. He would need to remember every lesson he’d ever learned from his father to survive this, but it was hard. His
stomach was cold, his mouth dry. Silence was definitely best for the moment.

‘I see,’ Selar nodded, draining his cup. ‘So you have nothing to say to me. Unfortunately, I can’t leave it at that. I need you to answer a question for me. If I set you free from here, will you raise an army and stand against me?’

The question caught Robert completely by surprise, but he covered it by turning to place another log on the fire.

‘You see,’ Selar continued, ‘I’ve been told by a number of people I believe I can trust that you are the greatest danger to my throne. It appears the people still hold some affection for your father and, in turn, for you. I’m told that if I were to let you go, within six months you would be leading a rebellion against me. That’s something I wish to avoid – for obvious reasons. However, since you did save my life, I felt I at least owed you the opportunity to speak in your own defence.’

Robert gazed into the depths of the fire for a minute, still saying nothing. Then, unable to help himself, he began to laugh.

‘I fail to see what you find so amusing!’ Selar snapped, slamming his cup down on the table. ‘Answer my question, dammit!’

‘And what would you do if I said no? Would you actually believe me if I promised never to lead a rebellion against you?’ Robert turned, a smile still on his face. ‘When you have so many others whispering my treason in your ears? I don’t think so. Be honest – you didn’t come here to ask me any foolish questions. You came here to see whether you could actually sign my death warrant after I had so inconveniently saved your life. Admit it.’

Selar’s eyes lit up with rage. ‘How dare you speak to me like that! Whether you like it or not, I am your King and I hold your life in my hands.’

‘Then kill me,’ Robert replied with a shrug. ‘Stop this childish posturing and do the deed.’

‘What? Are you eager to die?’

‘No,’ Robert put his hands behind his back again, calm
growing from within, ‘merely resigned to it. You made a big mistake, you know, giving me two years to think about it. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Waiting for you to come and rescue me from my prison?’

Selar shook his head slowly and leaned back against the window casement. ‘I see my information was correct. You are dangerous – and especially so being only, what, seventeen? You’re already as cool as ice, more composed than men twice your age. But I don’t believe you. You talk as though you’re a man with nothing to lose – and yet you have everything to lose. Even if you don’t care about your own life, you have a mother and a brother, not to mention these lands. Are you so courageous with their fate?’

Robert was prepared for this. The trouble was, he was actually enjoying this verbal fencing. What was wrong with him?

He folded his arms across his chest. ‘My mother lives at Saint Hilary’s, effectively under the protection of the Church, and you’d have to tear the place down in order to get her. I don’t doubt you would try it, but do you really want to offend the Church in such a manner so early in your reign? So far they’ve been tolerant towards you and I think you like it that way.’

‘And what about your twelve-year-old brother? Would you consign him to the grave?’

Robert found himself smiling again. ‘Finnlay and I are both our father’s sons. We are not afraid to face our duty – nor to die by it. If you asked him, I doubt he would say anything different.’

‘So you would do nothing to stop me killing him?’

‘I would kill you first,’ Robert murmured, then glanced up. He held Selar’s gaze without flinching. His heart pounded in his chest, but he allowed no sign to show. ‘What do you really want from me? Do you want me to provoke you enough to order my execution? Do you want my blessing? What?’

Selar took his time to respond. ‘What do you want, Dunlorn?’

Robert pulled in a startled breath. Was the man serious? ‘I want you to stop persecuting my people! I want you to stop taking the eldest son from every household and holding them to ransom. I want you to reverse the taxes you’ve placed on ordinary Lusarans that are driving them further and further into poverty. I want you to stop confiscating land at whim and giving it to your own men. I want you to stop treating this land as though it were a child that needed punishing!’

‘What do you know of it? You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re an innocent in the world of politics and conquest. What I do, I do to keep my throne.’

‘And you’re doing it so well you’ve come running to me – a man in prison – to stop me from leading a rebellion. If you were not already in danger, Selar, I would be powerless against you. It’s your own ruthlessness that gives me power. If you want to remove me as a danger, then you can do so easily by removing the things that make people rebel!’

‘Like you?’ Selar tossed back. It wasn’t a serious question, but the next one was. ‘And would you? Give me your blessing? In public so your supporters could see?’

‘Never.’

‘Then die and be damned, Dunlorn!’ Selar stormed and whirled around for the door. ‘I don’t need your help!’

‘I wasn’t offering it,’ Robert snapped back. ‘I gave it to you once, but you were too stupid to take advantage of it at the time. You don’t get a second chance.’

Selar got as far as the door before he paused. Without turning, he said quietly, ‘You know, I too am my father’s son. Something he taught me was that you should always recognize a unique opportunity when you see one. I did that when I invaded this country of yours, Dunlorn – and what’s more, I’m prepared to do it again if I have to.’

He turned slowly. ‘In return for your public blessing, Dunlorn, I offer you your life, the lives of your family and people here – and certain concessions along the lines you just mentioned. This is a unique opportunity for you also, and you should not be too quick turning it down.’

Robert listened not only to what Selar said, but to what he didn’t say. Could it be possible that his throne was in genuine danger? And not only from those who would support Robert? Was Selar really in so much trouble that he had come here, hoping for something he must have known he would never get? It was incredible, but even as Selar spoke, Robert had no trouble seeing the depth of this opportunity.

He let his hands drop to his sides and walked slowly across the room. He stopped in front of Selar and met his gaze, eye to eye. ‘You do need my help, my support – but you will not buy it so cheaply. Nor will I give you my public support until you give me something worth supporting. Anything else would only make people doubt my sincerity and defeat the entire purpose. I’ll do it, yes, but only after you have let me help the people. You’ve already done enough damage for one reign. Give me the power to do some good.’

‘But would you use that power against me?’ Selar searched Robert’s face.

‘Not unless you betrayed my trust, no. Unlike some people I could mention, once I make a vow, I never break it. You should remember that if you ever do decide to relieve my brother of his life.’

‘Fine words, Dunlorn, but do you mean them?’

Robert took a moment to think about it. He also thought about how close he was to Selar and how easy it would be to kill him at this particular moment. It would be a simple thing to do, to overpower the soldiers downstairs, then gather together his forces and ride towards Marsay with an army at his back. Within weeks he could be crowned King of Lusara and there would be very little left of Selar’s conquest for the historians to argue about. So why didn’t he do it?

The answer was as simple as the question. Because the only way he could kill Selar was by using sorcery and people would see that – and how long would he keep that throne with everyone knowing he was a sorcerer? Another war
would destroy Lusara totally, and Robert had no more claim to the crown than Selar. He would be just as bad as the man he’d replaced. Especially since Robert had no desire whatsoever to be King.

‘Yes,’ he breathed solemnly. ‘I do mean it.’

Selar nodded slowly. ‘Very well, Dunlorn, you have a deal. But I swear, you make one move against me and I will destroy you utterly.’

Robert smiled. ‘And I make the same vow.’

*

The moon was lost behind a film of blue cloud and a fine dust of rain began to fall, glistening on the stone ramparts. Robert stared out across the lake, able to see the mountains only in his imagination. It had been eleven years since that talk with Selar, and so much had changed in that time. Strangely, Selar had kept his word and allowed Robert all kinds of influence to help those who’d needed it. In turn, Robert had finally made a public vow of allegiance to Selar and for a while, the whole thing had looked like working. Even more strangely, Robert had found he actually liked the man, and without even realizing it, they had grown closer, becoming friends – good friends. For almost a year, Robert had enjoyed the first happiness since before the Troubles had begun.

But then things changed again – and quickly too. So quickly that he’d never really had any time to stop and work out what to do next. And when Berenice had died …