Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (50 page)

And then he saw it: a flare of anger in the boy’s eyes. He rejoiced silently.

‘Whining?’ Andrew began, his voice rising. ‘You kidnap me, steal me away without warning to my mother or your own brother – and then you tell me I have to kill a member of my own family, just to take a throne I don’t want! And why?
Because you don’t have time? Because you don’t want the throne yourself?’

‘No,’ Robert snapped back, ‘because Kenrick lives in Nash’s pocket. I need to separate them and the chances are I will not survive the fight with Nash, and if my efforts are to free Lusara from her chains then you, my boy, must be the one to do it!’

Andrew stood blinking at him, a thousand thoughts flying across his face. ‘Tie a bundle of those sticks together and bring them inside. I’ll leave the door open for you.’

With that, Robert pulled his sack of logs over his shoulder, grabbed the axe and headed back to the gully, leaving Andrew behind, stunned and silent.

*

Shame filled him. It followed him, shadowing him, sneaking up on him whenever he thought he might finally be rid of it. He didn’t dare look at Robert for fear he might see it leaking out of his eyes. But still the shame wouldn’t leave him. He asked no more questions. Instead, he helped with what work was required, answering with a nod or a shake when he was asked something.

So Robert showed him more of the caves created by a once-mighty river and he couldn’t help comparing this place to the Enclave. Apart from Robert’s living cave, there were perhaps two others that would be fit for people to live in, a couple of others that would serve as stables, but apart from that, the remainder were passages leading from one place to another, all in darkness.

This wasn’t a home, it was a refuge. And the more he thought about it, the more he remembered exactly where they were – right in the centre of Lusara, where Robert could reach almost any place in the shortest possible time.

Andrew couldn’t help watching him. He studied how Robert moved, how he spoke, how he raised his eyebrows in a manner faintly self-mocking. He smiled easily and often, and yet there were shadows around his eyes, moments when he gazed inwards, haunted.

I want you to free me.

‘You’re very quiet,’ Robert observed as they made their way back to the main cave. ‘I thought you wanted to talk.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Andrew replied, then bit his lip as he heard how sulky that sounded.

‘So you don’t want to know? But I thought you had an insatiable curiosity.’

Through the shame, Andrew felt the prodding. He stared at the back of the man walking in front of him, lit by a light in front. ‘All right. I do want to know. You’re the rebel. You’re the one who can raise an army to defend Lusara against Selar or Mayenne or the Sadlan. How is it you’ve not finished off Nash by now? Why have you waited so long?’

Robert came to a sudden stop and Andrew nearly crashed into him. When Robert turned around to face him, there was nothing nice in his gaze at all. ‘There are moments when you are astonishingly like your mother, did you know that? She too is fond of asking questions for which she already has the answer.’

‘But—’

‘And if I’d fought Nash before now, and assuming I survived, assuming I could maintain some degree of support – do you think it would have been particularly wise of me to put a young child on the throne?’

‘Why use me at all? You could have taken the crown yourself—’

A hand shot out to his throat and he was shoved back against the wall so hard he lost his breath. Robert’s face came close, his eyes black in the shadows. Andrew gasped and the pressure abated a little, but not enough to free him.

‘Never again will you say that to me. I was not born to wear that crown. You were, whether you can see it or not. Whether you want to believe it or no, you will be King, and you will be a good King, the kind of King I could never be. So you will never mention this, either to me, or to anyone else, again. Do I make myself clear?’

His heart racing, Andrew could only nod. The moment he did, Robert released him, a flash of distaste in his eyes. He moved as if to speak again, and to his surprise, Andrew could
almost read an apology written on that enigmatic face. Then it was gone and Robert had turned once more, heading off down the corridor, taking his light with him. ‘Come, it’s suppertime and I’m hungry.’

Andrew ran after him, stumbling a little on the uneven cave floor. He arrived back at the main cave in time to help serve up the rabbit stew they’d made earlier and Andrew did his best not to flinch every time Robert came near him.

He was being silly, of course. Robert wouldn’t hurt him. He knew that with complete certainty. It was just that …

How
did he know that?

He ate in silence, concentrating on his food, keeping his eyes on his plate. He didn’t know where to look any more. Didn’t know what to think or feel. All he did know was that he
didn’t
want to kill Kenrick. He didn’t want to kill
anyone!

‘Tell me something,’ Robert began easily, as though there hadn’t been that moment of violence in the other cave. ‘How is it that you have managed to survive in Kenrick’s court, when so many others around you have lost their heads? Literally.’

Andrew swallowed hard and nearly choked. ‘They … committed treason. I wouldn’t—’

‘No matter what? Do you think Kenrick protects you? Because you’re his cousin?’ Robert picked the last meat off a bone. ‘You could be right. I hadn’t thought he could have such feelings for anyone.’

‘You don’t know him,’ Andrew offered, looking up, wondering if there was any chance he might grasp here. ‘Kenrick is not like Nash.’

‘Oh?’ Robert turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised. He moved from the kitchen area and settled on the floor by the fire, where two large cushions added a modicum of comfort. He picked up a book, left it open beside him, then pointed at the empty chair. ‘Not everything needs to be a confrontation between us, you know. There is no requirement that you and I be enemies. Please, sit down.’

‘Please?’ Andrew asked, surprised.

Robert shrugged, smiling slightly. ‘You forget; when you’ve done as I’ve asked, you will be
my
King as well.’

King? This man’s King? Would he still be a rebel then? Would he bow and obey orders and pledge allegiance? And if Andrew told him to do something, would he do it?

It was too silly even to play with such an idea. Robert would never take orders from anybody. Oh, he’d say Andrew was King, but in reality, he would never bow to anyone …

And yet he was there, waiting patiently for Andrew to sit down, and there was no proud expression on his face, no arrogance in anything he said or did. In fact, Robert had always displayed the most alarming honesty, an honesty far greater than Andrew had ever experienced from an adult before.

He got the feeling he could ask Robert
anything
and get an answer.

His mind reeled at the thought and, still a little stunned, he came over to the fire and carefully sat down.

The moment he was settled, Robert poured himself some wine and began talking again, but this time, the subject had Andrew’s attention snagged totally.

‘You know of the Prophecy and some of the trouble it has caused so far. Well, the truth is, there’s a great deal of ambiguity involved. Even so, there appears to be a deep and lasting connection between the Angel of Darkness and the Ally.’

Angel … that was Nash – and his mother was the Ally. ‘What kind of connection?’

Robert wasn’t looking at him. ‘Nash told me he loved your mother and that they were destined to be together.’

You lie. The words sat there on the tip of Andrew’s tongue, like poison, needing to be spat out – but how could he? There was so much his mother had never told him, things she said he wouldn’t understand. Was this one of them?

He looked down to find those green eyes on him again, watching openly now. Robert continued, ‘I could never trust the Key and I told Jenn, when she became Jaibir, that I wouldn’t be able to trust her because she was joined to it. And after that, she … joined Nash and me on the battlefield.’ Robert paused and Andrew held his breath, waiting. ‘She stopped me from using the Word to destroy Nash.’

Andrew’s throat grew tight and he swallowed the lump forming there, desperate to take a full breath because his chest wouldn’t fill properly and it was starting to hurt. ‘Are you saying that she … deliberately … took Nash’s side? Are you telling me my mother is—’

‘I don’t know what I’m telling you. I haven’t spoken to her since, so I can’t say what she is thinking.’

‘She said she was trying to save your life.’

Robert’s eyes took on a haunted aspect as he gazed into the fire. ‘My life didn’t matter; destroying Nash did.’

‘You … you’re trying to poison me against her, aren’t you? Because you know she won’t support what you want me to do. She’s never said anything about me becoming King or anything!’ Andrew pushed himself out of his chair, blinking to rid his eyes of bitter tears that might spill onto his cheeks; he couldn’t stand that kind of shame and be angry at this man at the same time. ‘She’s never said
anything
against you! She just said that you’re … you’re not always what people think you are, but she never suggested, not once that you might be a … a traitor to your own people! But you, you want me to kill my own cousin and now you want me to believe that my own mother would sell Salti and all of Lusara to the man she most despises in the whole world? How can you say that? I thought you and she were at least on the same side!’ Robert was on his feet now, but Andrew backed away, holding his hands up in warning. ‘No, I’m not going to listen to any more of this! I want you to take me back now because I’m
never
going to help you, do you understand? Never!’

And then he turned and ran out, because if he didn’t he was going to cry and he hadn’t done that even when his father had died and his mother had left him at Maitland.

*

Robert stoked up the fire, laid out the blankets for Andrew’s bed, put away the last of the dishes and heated up some water to have a wash. He whistled as he completed each task, careful to keep all outward signs cool, containing the true depth of his concern hidden.

Now was not the time to falter. He had so little time.
Andrew was soft, gentle, kind, sensitive to any small change in Robert’s mood and it felt so strange having him around, reminding him painfully, as each minute went by, just what it had felt like with Jenn in those few, brief, heady hours when he’d allowed himself to believe that they were in love. That belief had sustained him through so much: knowing she knew him, knowing how she understood him, had meant more to him than he’d ever been able to say. Cutting himself off from her had left some part of him bereft, as though a limb was frozen in paralysis.

And this damned boy came in, looking at him with Jenn’s eyes, asking questions Jenn would ask and laughing at what she would laugh at, challenging everything he said in exactly the same way. It hurt.

While he waited for the water to boil, he pulled out his saddlebags, packed what things he would need for the next trip and left them by the door. On impulse, he pulled out the orb, still wrapped in its coarse sack. He put that in his bags, unwilling to leave it, even here, where it was completely safe. Then he made himself a cup of brew and went out into the connecting passage, sat on the ground with his back to a wall, raised his voice enough to carry to wherever Andrew might be, and said, ‘If I’d thought your mother was a traitor to her own people, I would have killed her long ago.’

There was no response. Andrew was still here, somewhere; he could feel it without trying to Seek him.

Or was the boy able to sense the lie in that last statement?

‘She never told you, did she? About Nash? About how they became friends? Did she ever tell you about how Nash would come to visit her at Clonnet? About how she would look forward to his visits? You must remember seeing him there a few times? Tall man, about Finnlay’s height. Black hair, black eyes, a short beard. Neither handsome nor ugly. The kind of man you wouldn’t notice unless he spoke to you. Of course, your mother had no idea who he was. She just thought he was a Guildesman who liked to talk to her. It never occurred to her that he might have another motive.’ Robert was about to continue, to tell the boy how his mother had allowed Nash to
kiss her at Shan Moss, but he could never replace his own confusion with cruelty to this boy.

‘Despite all this, I’m not trying to destroy your mother. I’m just trying to make you see that none of this makes a lot of sense. Not to me, not to her. So don’t go looking to understand it all. She did what she had to do, for reasons I don’t understand – just as she couldn’t understand that I was willing to end my own life if it meant Nash would go with me at the same time.’

There was still no response, but when he paused, he caught a faint scrape of leather against stone, just a hint of movement, though he could see nothing in the dark tunnels that led away from him.

‘Andrew, you need to understand that I can’t do this again. I don’t have an infinite number of times that I can face Nash and expect to live to fight him again. But even if I could, this country won’t survive another ten or twenty years like this – especially if Nash expands his influence, as he seems to be doing. I don’t want to make your life impossible, but I will if that’s what it will take to make you understand. I can’t afford to fail again.’

‘And you can’t afford to trust me, can you? Like you couldn’t afford to trust my mother?’

Robert didn’t turn as the question was asked. Instead, he let Andrew emerge from the shadows on his own. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘So you’re going to make me kill Kenrick. One way or the other.’

Slowly Robert got to his feet, faced the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. Andrew looked up at him with eyes older than a few days ago, wary, still a little angry and yet, prepared to learn. ‘I’m not going to lie to you and say it’s your destiny, Andrew, because you’re right; it’s just a trick of fate that gave you the ancestors you have and if it
were
my freedom I was talking about, chances are you and I would never have met again. But, for reasons I cannot fathom, my fate is tied in with that of Lusara. Every day that I am imprisoned thus, so is she and I will never be allowed to rest until the last chain has gone. I could raise another army. I could start another war.
And at every turn I made, Nash would be waiting, prepared to destroy everything in my path to hinder and stop me. Those are sacrifices I’m no longer willing to make.’