Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (22 page)

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Authors: Kate Jacoby

BOOK: Rebel's Cage (Book 4)
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‘If you want us to do it,’ Daniel asked quietly, pushing his empty plate to one side, ‘then why not show us now?’

Robert gentled his words with a weary smile. ‘This is not a matter of trust, my friend. Rather, perhaps I trust you all a little too much.’

‘Being cryptic is not going to get you anywhere,’ Aiden grumbled, shifting in his seat.

‘Cryptic?’ Robert asked. ‘In plain words then, I don’t want you having access to all this right now because I’m afraid that if you do, if you have all the evidence in your hands, if you see the mechanics, the strategy all laid out for you – you’ll do your best to stop me – and I can’t afford to make enemies out of
all
of you in one night, can I?’

Aiden snorted at that, but both Payne and Deverin chuckled dryly.

‘Feel free,’ Robert added, again walking around the table, ‘to look all you want once I’m gone. You’ll need to be familiar with it all.’

‘So, my lord,’ Owen leaned his elbows on the table and looked up at Robert, ‘what is it you would have us do?’

‘No, Owen,’ Payne shook his head. ‘The question you should be asking, is what Robert plans to do?’

‘I plan,’ Robert replied, completing his circuit around the table, ‘to put Andrew Ross Eachern on the throne of Lusara.’

*

Even as he spoke, Robert watched the men around the table.

Payne was first on his feet, disbelief on his face, almost stuttering with shock. ‘Andrew Ross? When did you get this idea? Have you talked to him? Spent any time with him? Told him what you’re planning?’

‘You’re the first to know.’

Daniel started shaking his head, getting to his feet as well. ‘This is insane, Robert. Absolutely insane. Do you honestly think the people of Lusara will accept a
boy
as King – after what they’ve gone through with Kenrick? You know the rumours that abound about Andrew’s mother, how she must have killed her husband in order to escape, how she didn’t die—’

‘Yes,’ Payne interrupted, pointing at the air. ‘Too many people saw her at Shan Moss! Nobody believes she died in that fire. And if they saw her at Shan Moss, they’d know she was a sorcerer!’

‘Just like me.’

‘Robert,’ Daniel held up his hand, ‘don’t pretend it’s the same thing. You’re a hero revered by the people. You proved yourself twenty and more years ago, long before they found out about your abilities. They trust you. How are they going to trust Andrew? He’s unknown, untried, his mother is under a black cloud and his father was one of the most hated men in the country! And … and …’ Daniel broke off, glancing guiltily at the others.

‘What?’ Robert asked quietly.

‘I still have friends at court. Enough at least, to hear a little gossip now and then and, well … you have to know that Andrew is close in with Kenrick. One of his favourites. They’re cousins, damn it! Robert, you have to rethink this.’

‘There is no other option.’

‘Then we have to find one!’ Payne shouted.

‘He’s just a boy, Robert,’ Daniel agreed. ‘How old is he now? Twelve? Thirteen?’

‘Fourteen.’ Before they could find more objections, Robert turned to Deverin. ‘What say you?’

The big man toyed with his fork before carefully placing it on his empty plate. ‘I think it largely depends on the boy himself.’

‘Why?’ Payne asked.

‘I remember Robert at the same age. Fate shaped him, as I’m sure Andrew will be. Success in this venture will rest on how strong he is, how passionate, how disciplined.’

‘Oh?’ Payne moved forward. ‘And what if he’s been corrupted by Kenrick, eh? What then? Does Robert have some sorcery that will turn a boy’s heart from black to white? If so, why doesn’t he just do that to the King and be done with it?’

Robert left the questions unanswered, turning instead to Owen, oldest of this group. Scratching the side of his chin,
Owen pursed his lips a moment. ‘I think you could have a lot of trouble.’

‘See?’ Daniel began, but Owen continued, as though uninterrupted.

‘But I also think … that he’s the right one to choose. Actually,’ he added with a wry grin, ‘I think he’s the only one.’

‘And why is that?’ Payne demanded.

‘Largely for the same reasons you’ve just held against him. His father, Eachern, was Selar’s maternal cousin, giving him a claim on that score alone. He is Lady Jennifer’s only child, and her grandfather four generations back was King of Lusara. Andrew is the last of our old royal family. Though his mother might have killed her husband to escape, Eachern
was
hated, and to many, her actions would have been seen as justifiable, and certainly courageous. And,’ Owen leaned forward, warming to his subject, ‘he
is
young. He can be moulded, shaped to be the King Lusara both wants and needs. Yes, he may be a sorcerer – but the people don’t need to know that, do they? Selar had no powers and yet Kenrick admits to them. And there’s one other thing you need to take into account.’

‘What’s that?’ Payne asked, his temper somewhat soothed by Owen’s simple reading of the situation.

Owen nodded towards Robert. ‘The quality of the man placing him on the throne. Most people believe that Robert could take the crown and nobody would be able to stop him. How powerful an idea is it then, to find that man is placing another above him? If Robert is as revered as you say, then surely the weight of his own reputation must play in favour of the boy. No, I agree with Deverin. In the long run, the viability of this plan lies mostly with Andrew himself.’

Robert wanted to smile, would have done, if Aiden’s face had regained some colour after his announcement, if that level gaze had looked at him with something other than ill-concealed shock. His skin crawled under such scrutiny, but he asked the question anyway. ‘Bishop? Do you have anything to offer?’

Seconds drifted by without a word. Then, slowly, Aiden sat back in his seat, mouth firmly closed.

Robert was no fool. The actions, the silence, the look: the Bishop’s opinions would be given later, when they were alone.

Very well. So be it.

Robert picked up the second jug of ale and moved around the table filling their cups. When he reached Payne, he put a hand on the man’s shoulder, gently urging him to sit once more. ‘I understand and appreciate your objections. I myself have gone over every one and many more like them. For the last six years, I have pushed and prodded my tired brain, trying to find another solution – but there is none. And there’s no point in your insisting I take the throne. In order to wrest Lusara free from her chains, I must fight Kenrick, the Malachi and Nash – most likely, all at once. I have tried to plan for most contingencies, but in all likelihood, I will either not survive, or I will be in as bad a state as I was the last time I fought Nash.’

Payne looked at him then, as did the others. He let them remember a moment, what it had been like the first few days afterwards. Then he continued, ‘Which is where you all come in, along with that chest of documents. I have set the seeds for rebellion in certain spots all around the country. Specific places, crucial posts and the like. Nothing will happen at all without the proper signal, leaving each man and woman free from danger until the right moment – and that signal won’t come unless you give it.’

‘Robert,’ Payne tried one last time, a valiant effort, ‘even injured, you could still assume the throne …’

Robert shook his head, unable to explain the further reasons why he needed Andrew as the pivot to this plan. ‘When Nash and Kenrick are dealt with, you will all cross the border and take up your roles as Andrew’s provisional Council. He’ll need men such as yourselves, with your experience, your loyalty and your dedication. Even as you’ve given these things to me over the years, I would ask that you transfer them to him.’

He looked away then, but he felt the eyes of five men on his back. ‘And … whether you like the idea or no, the simple and unavoidable truth is, that throne belongs to Andrew Ross
Eachern – and I will make sure he sits on it, if it is the last thing I do.’

Breaking the ensuing silence was the noise of a single chair scraping against the wooden floor. Then footsteps, a key turning in the lock and the door opening and closing.

Robert didn’t need to be a sorcerer to know Aiden had just walked out on him.

*

If he lay still and listened carefully, he could almost hear the ice forming in the courtyard. Though it was still dark outside, Robert rose from his bed, washed and dressed in warm clothes, ready for his journey. His feet trod upon boards newly put back in place, hiding the wooden chest and all it contained. The chances were he would never see it again.

Leaving his cloak to one side, he pulled his saddlebags up onto the bed, packing his meagre belongings carefully, wrapping the box with the silver rod and placing it at the bottom, where it would be most protected.

With everything packed, he took his bags out into the hallway, listening for a moment. The house was silent. Aiden had not made an appearance again last night. Instead, Robert had left his last instructions with the others as he’d detailed their removal to the castle at Bleakstone, in the south, with an armed guard. It was much easier to defend than this abbey – plus, when and if Patric ever arrived back, he would go there first. It had taken hours and much discussion, but in the end, he had achieved a consensus and gained their agreement.

He couldn’t help but be relieved that that part, at least, was over. However, the Bishop’s continued silence both worried him and hurt.

Robert opened the front door and slipped outside. He crossed the courtyard and found the stable in darkness. He went directly to his horse though, his sight enhanced more by will this morning than by his powers.

With deft fingers he saddled the animal, strapped the bags on and led him out. He tied the reins to a ring in the wall, then headed back to the house to collect his cloak and to write a note for the Bishop.

He picked up his cloak from his bedroom, then stealthily climbed the stairs. Making as little noise as possible, he turned into the study and found pen and paper on Aiden’s desk. As he dipped the pen in the jar of ink he noticed the familiar shape standing by the window, the curtain pulled open before him.

Robert paused. This was not the time for him to break the silence.

‘You never stay more than a couple of days,’ Aiden said, his voice even and soft. ‘It took me until last night to understand why. Suddenly it all makes sense, and I’m so … annoyed with myself that I let you distract me.’

Robert tried not to hold his breath as the next words were formed. ‘You said you had not spoken to the boy. So you haven’t asked him how he feels about your plans?’

‘No.’

‘And of course, you won’t have spoken to the boy’s mother, will you?’

Robert flinched at that, but he wasn’t surprised. ‘You know full well what’s at stake.’

‘Do I? All I know is that you want to make that boy into a King. You’ve said nothing, however, of how you think the Prophecy will be affected by your pursuit of that goal.’ Aiden paused, turning his head a little, so Robert could see his flat expression in profile. ‘Or are you now ignoring the Prophecy altogether?’

‘We don’t have a single shred of evidence that the Prophecy is real.’

‘What about Nash?’

‘What about him? Where does it say the Dark Angel will be called Nash? Why can’t Nash be unrelated to the Prophecy? Isn’t it just possible that evil can rise on its own? After all, nobody saw the rise of Selar – or of Kenrick, for that matter. There’s no requirement for the Prophecy to be involved.’

‘Except that you’re mentioned in it.’

‘So? Does that make it real?’

‘Very well, what about the Bonding?’

Robert shook his head, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘The Bonding was nothing.’

‘But Jenn—’

‘We had
nothing,
Aiden. Nothing at all.’ Robert drew in a breath, begging patience. ‘If we’d never heard of the Prophecy, we wouldn’t have spent all this time worrying about it. You know damned well much of my hesitation about helping Lusara has come directly because of my concerns about making the Prophecy come true.’

‘And I know you’d do anything, say anything necessary, to deny that there is any truth to the Prophecy.’

Robert, frustrated, said, ‘Why are you so committed to it?’

‘I’m not,’ Aiden murmured steadily. ‘You are.’

‘Before Shan Moss, when Jenn and I were in Budlandi, she said something about the Prophecy. I didn’t really understand it at the time. She said that I was looking at the Prophecy the wrong way, that it wasn’t the question, but the
answer.
The answer to who we are and why we must do what we do.’

‘But that boy isn’t part of the Prophecy. Why involve him? Simply because he isn’t?’

‘Aiden, this isn’t about the Prophecy. It’s about—’

‘Everything you do is about the Prophecy. Don’t lie to me, Robert, I won’t stand for it!’ Slowly Aiden turned until he faced Robert squarely. His voice lowered, both menacing and timorous.
‘By your very means, that born unto your hands alone, you will be the instrument of ruin. In the act of salvation, you will become desolation itself, destroying that which you love most.’

‘This isn’t about the Prophecy, damn it!’ Robert repeated, taking a step closer. ‘It’s about freeing Lusara. That’s the mistake I made all along: forgetting where my real responsibility lay. It was always there, right in front of me. Losing Jenn taught me that. You talk about being distracted from the truth? Well, that’s exactly what I’ve done for the last thirty-five years and it has to stop! Now! Serin’s blood, Aiden, I would have thought that you, of all people would understand. I would have thought that you’d be glad that—’

‘That you were hurrying to your own destruction? And what happens if you fail this time as well? Will you leave the fate of Lusara in the hands of a bunch of old men and a fourteen-year-old boy enslaved to the task? What kind of King will
that make him? Can you be sure you won’t
turn
him into the kind of monster Kenrick is by the act of placing him on the throne? And if you’re right, and you do die in the process, who in Serin’s name should we get to save us from
him?’
Aiden blinked, tight fissures of tension fluttering around his eyes. He paused a moment. ‘Promise me you will ask him.’

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