Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (12 page)

‘The countryside is afire with gossip and rumour.’ Micah sipped from his cup and let out a small sigh of satisfaction. ‘But I saw the notice with my own eyes, posted outside the Guildehall at Lochbear. There are no longer penalties for simply having abilities, nor for practising sorcery. Guildesmen are no longer authorised either to arrest or to detain sorcerers, and there is no death penalty.’ Micah lifted his face then, his voice quiet. ‘I’m afraid I just find it hard to believe that Osbert could do away with the Guilde’s sacred duty just like that.’

A collective sigh rushed around the room.

‘Well, that’s that then,’ Acelin murmured, first to speak.

‘Really?’ Henry sat forward, his hand reaching flat on the table in Micah’s direction, his breathing a heavy rasp. ‘Tell me, boy, was there any word of the Church’s position?’

Micah shook his head. ‘No. I asked Father Braden. Nothing so far – but I can’t imagine that it will be too far behind. After all, what would be the point in changing one if not the other as well?’

‘Wouldn’t that depend on what Osbert wished to achieve?’ Henry darted back.

‘What makes you think this is Osbert’s idea?’ Finnlay ventured, his voice and expression tight. ‘I know Osbert isn’t the bigoted fool Vaughn was, but he’s never had any love of sorcery. I have no doubt that this move has been forced upon
him by Kenrick. This has to be a trap. There’s no other reason for it.’

Desta frowned. ‘To what end?’

Finnlay stared at her a moment, as though he couldn’t believe she could ask such a question. ‘To catch some of us, so that Nash can use our blood to … to regenerate. That’s why he’s been so quiet over the last eight years, because he’s still healing from the wounds Robert gave him. That’s what this is all about. Nash wants Salti blood. He’s trying to flush us out into the open, by promising us normal lives in Lusara. Yes, I agree with Micah, I’ll wager Brome is getting ready to issue similar changes to Church law, and there’s nothing we can do about it.’

Jenn held up her hand to forestall further discussion for a moment and turned to Micah once more. ‘Did you get a feel for how people were taking this change?’

‘Largely, the people feel they’ve been betrayed – but Lochbear is a Guildehall town. How other people around the country are feeling, I have no idea. Does anybody know when Murdoch is due back?’

‘Soon, I imagine, but there’s no guarantee he knows more than we do, of course, though living out in the countryside all summer would make him a better judge of how the people feel about all this—’

‘Damn it, Jenn!’ Finnlay slapped the table. ‘What does it matter how Lusara views this? We need to decide what
we
are going to do!’

Jenn tried to communicate with a look what she knew she couldn’t say in front of these others. For a moment he held still and silent, then carefully and deliberately sat down, clasping his hands together on the table before him, almost entirely unrepentant. His frustration was almost palpable, but he was the only one in this room who had lived through the evil Nash threatened them with.

‘I think it’s important,’ she began, equally carefully, ‘that we know how the people feel about it, in case, for some reason in the future, we are
forced
to abandon our sanctuary here. We might not be able to stop this change, but—’

‘I’m sorry, Jenn,’ Desta spoke up, glancing to the others, ‘but I don’t see why we would
want
to stop it. Surely this is a change we’ve all been looking for, regardless of the true purposes behind it.’

‘There’s something else, too,’ Micah added into the silence. He kept his gaze firmly on the table, his fingers wrapped around the cup for either warmth or comfort. ‘Rumours are rife at the moment about the Hermit of Shan Moss. He’s had another vision about an incarnation of Mineah coming to Lusara. I think that’s the third or fourth this year. People believe it means her arrival is imminent – and it’s very easy for them to assume it’s connected to this law change. There’s no real unrest at the moment, but that could change if the Church amends their laws as well.’

‘Forgive me,’ Seamus raised his hand a little before he continued. ‘But we haven’t considered the possibility that this might be real.’

‘What?’ Finnlay stared at the man.

Seamus leaned forward and looked around the table. ‘If Osbert has put this change through of his own volition, then surely he has Kenrick’s backing. Kenrick openly admits to his abilities. Surely any King would want to change laws that would execute him as well. And as for Nash – well, who of us has heard a word from him since the Battle of Shan Moss, eh? Robert wounded him very badly. How do we know he’s not dead? Or permanently out of the picture?’

‘And,’ Desta chimed in, ‘I know, Jenn, how you’ve worked to get the Key to tell you where the Calyx is – but what if
this
is how we’re supposed to get free of the Enclave? For all we know, the Calyx might be behind these moves of Osbert’s.’

Finnlay was on his feet in a second, but Henry beat him with bare outrage. ‘Are you mad! Nash is the Angel of Darkness right out of Prophecy and until I see his body consumed in flames, I will believe he is alive! Anything – and I mean
anything
– that comes out of Marsay must, by definition, be tainted with the evil he was born from! How can you sit there and suggest that this is a prelude to peace? We don’t need to be
feeding our people those kinds of lies! We need to be asking ourselves why it’s happening
now!’
Henry paused only to gasp in breaths that worked heavily in his chest, his puffy eyes watering with the exertion, ruddy face red and strained.

‘Henry, please,’ Jenn said, a hand on the old man’s arm. Her Healer’s Sight sent a dire warning through her, but he just shook her off.

‘Damn it, answer me! Serin’s blood, do you not take your Council responsibilities seriously?’

Jenn was on her feet now, Arlie moving as well. She could See it in Henry, see his body reacting badly to his outburst, to his anger and fear. ‘Henry, calm yourself, please …’

‘No, Jenn, I can answer.’ Seamus got to his feet and faced Henry. ‘You need to remember things have changed, Henry. We’re a lot more powerful now than we were before Jenn became Jaibir. Finnlay’s combat training has us all ready for a fight if necessary. But can’t you see that we’re all tired of this? Of living here, buried inside caves? We weren’t born to this. Most of us were born outside the Enclave, and we want to return there some day. And we have a proud history. We come from a people who have the power to rule – so why are we hiding away in here? Kenrick is a sorcerer – and a King. There has never been a better time for us to move.
This
could be the Calyx – these very changes could be the exact thing our people have been waiting for all this time. We just need to have the courage to reach for our freedom. It might be the only chance we ever get!’

‘You …’ Henry gasped, his face red with fury, ‘you would bring destruction down upon us all! You …’

‘Henry!’ Jenn reached out, but even so, she was too late. Henry’s breathing stunted to several short gasps and then, abruptly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the table.

One by one, Jenn folded and placed Andrew’s clothes into the saddlebag. With tired fingers she did up the laces then placed the bag on the floor by the door. When she looked up, she found Andrew’s eyes on her. He was already in bed, sleepy after a long day.

It had been a long day for all of them.

Troubled blue eyes blinked at her. ‘Is Henry going to be all right?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jenn moved to the side of the bed and he shifted over to give her room to sit. ‘He has our two best Healers with him. They’ll do everything they can, but we need to remember Henry is an old man.’

Andrew frowned a little. ‘It wouldn’t be the same without him here.’

‘No.’ Jenn could hear movement in the other room as Lady Margaret put things away after their supper. For reasons she didn’t want to think about, Finnlay’s mother had almost adopted Jenn and Andrew, as though she believed they didn’t have enough family of their own – at least, not here at the Enclave. And in more ways she didn’t want to think about, Jenn welcomed the friendship. She’d always felt a strong connection with Margaret, as though they’d each been thrust into a different world, both unknowing and unprepared.

‘Do I really need to go to sleep now, Mother? I’m not that tired and I’d like to see what Arlie says about Henry.’

‘I know, love,’ Jenn leaned forward and kissed his forehead. ‘But you and Micah leave very early tomorrow. You need your rest.’

She went to rise, but he caught her hand before she could move. ‘You are still coming to visit next spring, aren’t you? You promised to meet me at Elita so I can see it. I know Aunt
Bella would like you to visit at Maitland. It’s been a year since you last came and sometimes …’

‘What?’

‘Sometimes she gets upset that you stay away so much.’

Jenn sighed. Her relationship with her sister had never been great, but Bella had taken in Andrew with open arms and loved him as her own; she had given him a home and the life Jenn, tied to the Key as she was, couldn’t. But Bella knew enough about Jenn to disapprove heartily of what she was doing, though she’d never tried to poison Andrew’s mind, as many in her place would have.

‘I understand how she feels,’ Jenn began gently, ‘but
you
understand why I’m here, don’t you? You know that I’d have you with me all the time if I could? You do believe that, don’t you?’

He gave her a blinding smile, one which reminded her so much of Robert it hurt, but was also entirely his own. ‘Of course I understand, Mother. I couldn’t have a normal life if I lived here, could I? I miss you and Finnlay and everyone else – but I also like living at Maitland. Sometimes I just wish you and everyone else here could live like that as well, so that nobody had to live inside the protection of the Key.’

Jenn smiled and gave him another kiss. ‘That’s what we all wish, my love. Now you get some sleep. I’ll send Lady Margaret in to say goodbye, as you’ll be gone before she wakes in the morning.’

She rose then and went back into the main room, where a fire burned brightly and a lamp on the table gave further warmth to the room. Margaret was just pouring a cup of brew for them both.

‘He’s waiting for you.’ Jenn picked up her cup as Margaret smiled and went into the other room. She could hear soft voices, but wandered instead to her desk and the pile of books she had stacked there. She’d barely had a chance to look at her work since Andrew had arrived for this visit, and with everything else that was going on, she wasn’t sure when she would be able to get back to it, even though it called to her.

She would have to tell them about it soon.

The bedroom door clicked behind her and she turned to find Margaret smiling. ‘That boy … I don’t know where he gets his sense of humour from.’

Jenn didn’t answer that.

‘And are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?’

Looking up, Jenn found a pair of deep brown eyes watching her. Margaret had aged beautifully over the years; getting older had only enhanced the person she was. Though her hair was peppered with white and the lines around her eyes clear, her smile, her openness and obvious caring only embellished her beauty. Finnlay had got his brown eyes from her – but Margaret had told her many times that both her sons favoured their father, Trevor, a man who intrigued Jenn, though he’d died more than thirty years before, killed fighting Selar.

‘Well,’ she answered with an attempted smile, ‘I’m worried about Henry, and about this Guilde business.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

Margaret picked up her mug of brew and drifted over to the desk. ‘And you’re worried about something else. I can tell. You’ve hardly spoken two words to anyone since the meeting. It’s not good for you to keep things inside, you know that. You used to say as much to Robert.’

Jenn looked away at that.

It was impossible to escape him. It was impossible to forget that he’d been right, or that she’d lost him, or how much she still needed him, despite everything. It made her feel pathetic that even after eight years, such thoughts could still catch her like this.

Swallowing hard, she replied, ‘I didn’t handle that meeting very well today. I should have kept more control over the discussion. If I had, perhaps Henry wouldn’t have had such reason to get so upset.’

‘Oh, my dear,’ Margaret put an arm around her shoulder, pressing a light kiss to her temple. ‘You silly girl. You know Henry’s been ill for a long time. His temper has never been good. You can’t blame yourself for this.’

‘Oh, I know he’s been ill, but that doesn’t excuse my
shortcomings,’ Jenn said. ‘I just don’t think I’m very good at this leadership business. Some days I’m too cautious, others I’m too reckless. I feel so … uneducated, and so I read all the hours that I get and still there is so much I don’t know, that I don’t understand, and I need to.’

‘Why?’

Jenn looked up. ‘Because then, when days like this come, I would know what to do.’

*

The Enclave was quiet as Jenn stepped out into the corridor. Most people had gone to their beds, more than a few concerned about what the next day would bring.

She kept her footsteps even, listening to the noises she’d grown accustomed to over the years, things that marked this place as being so different to any other. Taking one turn in the passage brought her to the door of Henry’s rooms. It was open and inside, sitting by the fire, was Finnlay, chin resting on his fist, ankles crossed carelessly, gaze buried somewhere in the flames. Micah sat at the table, paper before him, pen in his hand. One after another, he scratched words down, a small frown on his face, concentration focused on his task.

He was writing a letter to his family, who were now forced to live in Flan’har. Grant Kavanagh, Flan’har’s independent Duke and true friend of Lusara, had welcomed them, and for the last ten years or so, Micah’s five brothers, two sisters and both parents – not to mention a host of nieces and nephews – had resided in the peace and civility of that country. Exiles, perhaps, but at least they had not been executed because of their unwitting connection to Robert via Micah. These letters Micah wrote were his only contact with them, sending them via Enclave couriers his only safe means of delivery.