Memory's Wake (11 page)

Roen’s body shivered in an ongoing tremble he couldn’t control. He was exhausted, but he often worked all night and it never left him like this.
Why am I so anxious?
His father looked grave, but smiled at Roen and patted him on the shoulder.

After the entire night spent listening in, seeking gossip and spying, Roen explained to his parents what he saw in town during the dark hours of morning. He’d finally managed to bring his parents something of such value it could change their hard lives. Pride mixed with bitter anxiety at the news he now delivered.

The princess burst through the curtain from the bedroom with a look on her face that made Roen shake harder. He gripped his hands together to still them.

Isabeth tried to herd the girls back into the bedroom. Eloryn ducked past her, straight to where Roen and his father were sitting at the table. They cut off their conversation.

“It’s not true. He couldn’t be,” Eloryn insisted.

Roen turned to his father, not sure how to respond. Brannon shook his head in the smallest of movements.

Eloryn came to a stop in the middle of the room, her chest rising and falling from sharp breaths. “No secrets, please. I know what you said, but you must be wrong. They couldn’t have caught him. Couldn’t have!”

“Princess, I’m sorry. I saw him myself.” Roen’s muscles still ached from the strain of moving unseen and unheard to get as close as he could to Alward’s cell. But all he could do was watch, blocked by too many guards and gates locked by magic instead of mechanisms that would click open for his fingers.

“He is nearby? I have to go to him.” Eloryn headed toward the front door.

With two huge steps Brannon moved in front of her. He held his only hand out in a calming gesture. “It is your safety that is most important, you know this.”

Eloryn shook her head in a way that made her blonde hair shiver around her.

Roen forced his words out, wishing there were some other messenger for this news. “Alward is alive, but they have poisons that block his magic and he is heavily guarded. The wizard hunters also had a good view of you both,” he said, looking from Eloryn to Memory. “They’re already heading back out to continue searching for you. Fifteen of them, some heading back into the forest, others onto the roadways. The rest have begun searching houses and farms around Maerranton.”

Isabeth dropped into a nearby seat as though her legs had been cut out from under her. “They won’t be safe here, will they?”

Brannon shook his head. “We need to get Eloryn away from here, as fast as possible.”

“And yourselves,” Roen added. “They are Thayl’s men. You can’t risk them recognizing you if they come this way.”

“No.” Eloryn eyed the door, hysteria in her eyes. “No, I can’t leave Alward.”

Brannon stood as a barrier between her and the exit. “There’s no doubt Thayl will come to see Alward himself, to be sure who it is. Once he is sure, he’ll do everything he can to find you. Did Alward have somewhere else for you to go, to someone else he trusted?”

“He considered at times going to others from the Wizards’ Council-”

“There are others still alive?”

“But we never did. I don’t know where to find them on my own. We were meant to go to our other home on Rhynn together, to be safe there. What must I do to get him back? I have to do something to free him.”

“Lory, that doesn’t sound like a good idea. Not if that Thayl guy might be coming. Remember the part about him being a crazy person?” Memory mumbled from the back of the room.

Brannon’s voice flooded over Memory’s. “It’s not what Alward would want, nor will we let you try. You’re too precious to be lost taking such a risk.”

Doubt and denial showed clear on Eloryn’s face.

Brannon rubbed his eyebrows for a moment then spoke again, his voice smooth and comforting. “We will do everything we can to have Alward freed. There are local resistance fighters we can call on. They will be better fitted for the job, readier for such a task. Leave this to us.”

Roen raised his eyebrows at his father’s words. They hadn’t been in contact with the resistance since the warring ended and they went into hiding, over a decade ago. “And what of Eloryn?”

“We’ll send her to Lanval.” Brannon nodded to his son, and Roen recognized the look of warning on his face. “If any of the Wizards’ Council still survives, he’ll be the best chance of finding them.” Brannon turned to Eloryn, bending down to look her straight in the eye. “Duke Lanval is an old friend. He is trusted and well connected. It is wisest that you go to him now, understand?”

She nodded obediently, a tear dropping to the floor with the tilting of her head. Roen found himself on his feet, one hand wrapped tight around the backrest of the chair. His father had the sort of tone it was hard to say no to, the tone of a duke, last remnant of his lost nobility. To see it used on the Princess in this way lit a rebellious fire within Roen. He breathed deeply to cool it down.
After all, Father is right. We can’t let Eloryn go after Alward. Who am I to judge his lies?
There was nothing they could do.

Brannon straightened back up. “Then you leave right away.”

Eloryn turned so quickly to Memory it made her jump. “You’ll come with me?”

“Err, yeah, of course,” Memory muttered. Being included in the conversation left her looking dumbfounded.

“Can’t we go with them?” said Isabeth.

“Too many of the wrong people in the Duke’s court still know our faces,” Brannon said.

“But the Princess…” Isabeth looked stricken.

“Roen visits the Duke often, he knows the way. He’ll do his best to get her there safely.” Brannon gave his decision without a look to his son for confirmation. His tone sounded more disappointed than trusting.

Roen cleared his throat, worried the tightness in it would taint his voice. He handed his father a piece of paper. “You and Mother must leave as soon as possible too. Go to the inn at this address. Ask for Scarlett, she’ll make sure you aren’t found.”

Brannon took the address and everyone began to move. Roen let out a lungful of air. He hadn’t really expected a thank you. He was happy at least that Brannon had the grace not to ask who Scarlett was. Of all the sons in the family, he knew he wouldn’t have been their choice to be the only one they had left. It was the simple fact of
what
he was that meant he could never be enough.
What they would think of me if they also knew what I did to make a living...

Eloryn sniffled and drifted back into the bedroom. Memory hovered while Brannon and Isabeth rushed about preparing to leave. Roen threw a pack over his arm, stuffed it with a change of clothing and considered what else he might need. Still in his work clothes from the day before, he had most necessary items on him already and had few other belongings worth taking. It wouldn’t take long to escort the Princess to Duke Lanval’s. Once he got her there they would find someone fitter for the task of protecting the Maellan heir. Heading to the kitchen for food, he met his mother, who pressed a small jar of ointment into his hands.

He smiled at her from below pinched eyebrows. “Mother, my shoulder’s fine now.”

“You know you’ve got no healing behests to sort it out if it acts up on you again. Take it.” Isabeth pushed it into his hands. “Look after her well. One day, maybe she’ll be Queen, and remember the help we’ve given her.” For a moment she looked over her son’s face, her expression split between a frown and a smile. She left to join Eloryn and Brannon in the living room.

Ready to leave, Eloryn wore her satchel with the strap diagonally across her chest, tucked tight under one arm as he had shown her. Roen’s lips twitched.

Shuffling out of the way, Memory backed into the kitchen and bumped into Roen. They both watched Isabeth wrap her arms around Eloryn in a strong embrace.

Memory tilted her head. “Don’t you get one too?”

Roen whispered into Memory’s ear. “I think we all know who is most important here.”

Her eyes narrowed shiftily. “Me, right? Is it me? Yep. Definitely me.” Memory lifted one corner of her lips into a cheeky smile which he returned.

His parents took their lightly packed bags and they all headed out the back doorway of the cottage. They knew how to pack for this risk, taking only essentials and a few identifying heirlooms and leaving their home so it didn’t appear to have been fled in a hurry. With luck, the hunters would not come this way. Or if they did, they would find nothing suspicious and move on, and he could find his parents and bring them home in just a few days.
And return to...?
The question made his chest ache and he shook it off.

Brannon took Roen’s hand and held it firmly. “Get her to the Duke’s quickly. Don’t let us down, son.”

Isabeth fussed, brushing back Eloryn’s hair from her face. “Be safe, and watch out for fairy rings.”

Roen nodded a goodbye to his parents, and they headed separate ways.

Following Roen, Memory put on her best impersonation of hope. Lanval sounded like someone powerful, someone with connections who knew other wizards, so maybe he would be able to help her as well.
Because everyone’s been falling over themselves to help me so far.

Roen led them along a dirt track through the tall, untended crops. He turned his head continually, watching all around them.

Memory’s legs ached and moved like rusty robotics, unhappy from their overuse. Beside her, Eloryn seemed to be struggling just as much with hers. She chewed on her bottom lip. Also failing at being hopeful, perhaps.

Memory nudged her with an elbow. “You ‘K?”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t worry. They’ll sort things out, with Alward. Maybe the resistance guys will free him and he’ll meet us at this Duke’s place?”

Eloryn nodded and looked away.

“How far is it anyway?” Memory asked Roen.

“Normally, just a short trip through the city. His palace is actually that way.” He pointed, and to Memory it looked as if he pointed back the way they came. “But it will be safer to travel out into the forest, avoiding the city and roadways, and coming back into the palace from the other side.”

“Not safer for my legs,” Memory whined.

“You won’t have to walk far. Just down the hill from here is the Draper’s farm. Good folk, lots of daughters. I know them well enough that they might lend us some horses.”

Memory raised her hand. “Um, I don’t know how to ride, I think.”

“You seem like a fast learner to me.” Roen winked at her.

Memory found herself blushing, and turned her focus toward the forest that followed the edge of the fields. She stared high into the red and yellow tapestry of leaves, hoping to see the little fairies she’d seen last night. In the morning sunlight she saw nothing but birds and insects humming through the treetops.

“Look forward to being well treated when we arrive at the palace. Duke Lanval is quite fond of me. He knew my parents well, and while he cannot safely host them, he lets me visit often. He has no children of his own, so I think he enjoys the company.” Roen continued walking ahead, talking to them over his shoulder. The flow of his words seemed nervous. Eloryn had clammed up again and Memory had nothing much to say either, so she let him talk.

“Most think the Duke is loyal to Thayl, but the truth is more a loyalty to his wife. After my family and others refused to accept him as king, Thayl needed someone influential on his side. He tortured Lanval’s wife to secure his compliance. Lanval won’t risk his wife’s safety again, but has no love for Thayl. He takes no action against Thayl himself, but has contacts in the resistance, whom he also funds. You can trust him, by my life.”

Coming around a bend, the field ended and the path wound down a terraced slope. They were met with a view of a pretty farmstead at the bottom, and a scream that pierced through the air.

Roen pushed them back into the cornfield they’d just stepped out of. Down the hill, spooked horses jittered near a stable. From one of the buildings came the sound of someone yelling and a door slamming. A man stepped into view around the corner of the stables, dragging a young woman by her blonde hair. He threw her to the ground, and more men appeared from the other buildings, two younger girls in tow.