Read Rebel's Cage (Book 4) Online

Authors: Kate Jacoby

Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (51 page)

BOOK: Rebel's Cage (Book 4)
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‘So you sacrifice me instead?’

‘You
will survive, and so will Lusara.’

‘But I have to kill Kenrick to make sure.’

‘I can’t handle both him and Nash at the same time. You’re the only person I know who can get close enough to kill him without an army at your back.’

‘So I must betray him? Because you tell me to?’ Andrew asked. ‘I need a better reason than that.’

‘You should already have all the reason you need. If you’d had your eyes open these last years, you would see what I see. Kenrick is not fit to be King.’

Andrew lifted his chin. ‘I live half of every year at court. I see more of him than you do—’

‘My point exactly.’

‘And you’re expecting me to just take your word for it?’

‘You would trust him before me?’

‘I don’t know you. I do know him.’

Robert folded his arms. ‘Have I ever done anything to harm you?’

Andrew raised his eyebrows. ‘Has he?’

‘Have I ever hurt those around you?’

Andrew blinked owlishly, considering this. ‘With the obvious exception of my abduction, no. Has Kenrick?’

Robert paused a moment, needing to choose his words with great care. ‘My brother tells me you are fond of his daughter, Helen, and friendly with a boy called Liam?’

Andrew froze. Then he took a step forward, his eyes abruptly dark, and Robert knew then that he could do it, he could make this boy into a King. There were things in this world that had deep and powerful meaning for Andrew. All Robert had to do now was to use those to mould that agile but stubborn mind.

‘Helen? What’s happened to her?’

With a gentle hand, Robert took him back to the fire, sat him down and told the story, carefully. Andrew listened in silence. When he finished, Andrew sighed.

‘I can’t … he isn’t … he never … Poor Liam. Is Helen all right?’

‘I’m sure she is. She had already recovered a little when I left her with Finnlay.’

‘He never said …’ Andrew got to his feet, his eyes down, his movements distracted. ‘I’m … going to bed.’

‘We have an early start in the morning.’

‘We do?’

‘I have a number of places where messages can be left for me by various people. I have to go and check on one of them. It’s not too far from here. After that, I’ll take you back to your mother.’

‘My mother?’ Andrew stopped and looked up at him. ‘But—’

‘I will give you two days to make what arrangements you need. After that …’

Andrew closed his eyes, pressing his fists against his temples as though a great pain throbbed there. He said nothing more, merely turning to his bed, throwing off his outer clothing and burying himself in his blankets.

Robert had no trouble reading that message. He’d often had the desire to shut the world out and never go back.

And this was definitely one of those times.

*

The early start felt like the middle of the night to Andrew’s sore eyes and weary body. Too little sleep and too much to think about. He needed to see what was lying beneath the surface now, or somewhere along this crooked line, he was going to start screaming.

He hardly knew himself any more, but he was getting to know the man who rode beside him, hood pulled down against the driving, icy rain so that his face was almost invisible and that stark gaze was safely hidden. Thankfully the rain gave him an excuse not to talk, and Robert an excuse not to reply. They could both hide within the silence.

The sun never made a showing. The constant downpour dragged their progress through sodden ground and mud the horses struggled to endure. This was spring at its worst, the
time of the year the poets forgot about, before the blossom and lilies bloomed, before leaves appeared on the trees all new and bright and pristine. This was the ugly part of the season, where the hard work was done, where the earth was prepared for planting, rivers and lakes filled and those who were foolish enough to be out in it paid for the privilege.

At least it gave him something else to think about. Something that wasn’t Kenrick, or even Helen and Liam. Just brushing against that subject made him want to be ill and he had to swallow hard to dissuade his body from reacting.

They didn’t stop for a meal, so by the time the thin church tower appeared through the gloom, Andrew’s stomach was growling loud enough to unsettle his horse. Robert paid no attention, but led him down the slope, through a tiny rotting gate and up to the lee wall of the church, where they were sheltered a little from the weather.

Robert swung down from his horse, his feet landing with a splash. He barely looked up at Andrew, but his voice came clear. ‘Wait here. I won’t be long. There’s some shelter not far where we can light a fire and dry off a little.’ Then he was gone inside and Andrew sat there, looking out over the grey landscape filled with grey fields and the grey trees in the fuzzy distance. Of course, spring was welcomed because it brought colour back into the countryside. After months and months of winter blankness, even Guilde yellow would be a welcome …

‘Robert!’ Andrew kicked his horse around to the door of the church and leaned down, bellowing at the top of his voice, ‘Robert! We have to go! Now!’

A second later, Robert burst through the door, a leather pouch in his hand, already pulling the hood over his head. He grabbed his reins from Andrew’s hands and leaped into the saddle, his gaze following the line Andrew was pointing.

‘Damn it! Come on, this way.’ He pulled hard on the reins, turning around the other side of the church, then kicked off at a gallop, heading for the nearest trees. Andrew stayed close, but looked again and again at the half-dozen Guilde soldiers who advanced on them from their ambush positions.

But after a minute he had no more time to look back and
instead had to concentrate on watching where he was going as his horse stumbled and skittered down a rocky hillside littered with half-stripped pine trees and rotting stumps. At the bottom was a river which Robert rode straight into, coaching his horse to work with the flow, rather than against it. Andrew held on, too scared to look back now, too afraid to look forward. He had to trust. Robert hadn’t stayed alive and free all these years by being a fool.

Shivering, the horses brought them up the other side in one piece and immediately Robert got them moving again. The forest was thicker on this side, but the moment the horses began to regain confidence, Robert urged them back into a canter. Trees flew past as the rain flew down until, without warning, Robert brought them to a halt beside a long-deserted lake. Breathing heavily in time with his horse, Robert held up a hand for silence, half-closed his eyes and turned his head slightly.

He was Seeking, looking for the faint aura of humans in those following them. Andrew glanced back the way they’d come, searching for any flash of yellow in the unending grey expanse.

‘They’ve lost us,’ Robert announced after a moment. ‘Did they see your face?’

Andrew frowned. ‘No. At least, I don’t think so. They weren’t very close when I first saw them and I had my hood down.’

‘Good. Now, let’s see what all the fuss was about.’ With that, he pulled out the leather pouch, tore the glove off his right hand and held his cloak up for shelter with his left. Andrew could just see an edge of paper, but no more.

‘Who is it from?’ When Robert looked at him, Andrew said, ‘If you want me to be King, you can’t keep secrets from me.’

The corner’s of Robert’s eyes crinkled then, the briefest of smiles. ‘It’s from Archdeacon Godfrey.’

‘Godfrey? He writes to you?’ Andrew was happily amazed, and not really very surprised. Godfrey was a good man. It was nice to know he was actively working on the right side.

The right side.
His
side?

‘What does it say?’

Robert finished reading, then folded the paper up absently.

It wasn’t too hard to read the gestures. ‘So you think it was a trick? The message? Who else knew to send you letters there?’

Robert’s frown deepened. He gathered his reins and began moving again along the bank of the lake. ‘Godfrey’s been Sealed, so he couldn’t tell anybody about the church. But the message was about Osbert wanting to meet with me urgently. I can only suspect that Osbert had men follow Godfrey’s courier.’

‘So it was a ploy to ambush you?’

‘Oh, I doubt it.’

‘Why?’

Robert pushed his hood back and looked up at the sky, reading the clouds. ‘Osbert is no fool. He wouldn’t bother sending only six men to capture me.’

‘Then why send them at all?’

‘Why do you think?’

Andrew hated questions like this. ‘To make you notice? To … make sure you go to see him? So you know it really is important?’

Robert grinned widely at him. ‘Ah, so you’re not so dumb after all, are you?’

‘Who said I was dumb?’

His answer was a chuckle.

And then he knew it, knew what it was that had been bugging him all this time, that thing, that unexpected question or that niggling answer that had been hiding in the corner of his eye.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’

‘Me?’ Robert raised his eyebrows, not understanding. ‘Me what?’

‘You who … You’ve been putting books in that alcove in my window, books for me to read. It was you all along, wasn’t it? Writing those notes, answering my questions … just like you’ve been doing these last few days …’

Robert let his horse wander to the edge of the lake, allowing it to drink. ‘It will take the rest of the day to circle around and
head south again to meet your mother. I’ll try mindspeaking her tonight and tell her to meet us at Maitland.’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ Andrew drew himself up. ‘I’m going with you. To Marsay.’

Robert’s gaze narrowed. ‘To what end?’

‘I …’ Andrew struggled, but nothing came to him. ‘I don’t know. I just think I should … go with you.’

‘Because I gave you books to read? Because I answered your questions? Made you think?’

Unable to help himself, Andrew’s cheeks burned again, but he didn’t look down this time. He just nodded. ‘That’s as good a reason as any.’

‘It’s a bit thin, as reasons go.’ This came out just as serious, but Andrew got the impression Robert was laughing, just a little. ‘And we won’t be going in as though we belong there, you know? If you travel with me, you become what I am: a rebel.’

‘That’s what you want to turn me into, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose so.’ The faintly whimsical air vanished then as Robert lifted his chin. ‘Can you obey orders? To the letter? Can you trust me to know what I’m doing? To keep you safe? Are you prepared to put your life in my hands?’

This answer came without any thought. This was the question Andrew had been waiting for all this time. ‘Yes, I can.’

Robert considered it a moment longer, then said. ‘Very well. Let’s go find a change of horses. We’ve three days’ hard ride ahead of us.’

26

As the first bell rang, Andrew squeezed himself back into the too-small crevice and held his breath. He could see almost nothing, but he could hear and smell a side of Marsay he’d never really experienced before.

And judging from the stench, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

‘As soon as the market is closed up, we’ll move. See that alley over there? A few strides down it you’ll find some steps leading down to a door. If we get separated, meet me there.’

‘If we get separated?’ Andrew twisted his head as much as he could, but from his awkward position, he could barely see Robert. Dozens of people shuffled past their hideaway, going about their business at the end of the day, ignorant of their presence. ‘Why would we—’

‘You think I can foretell the future as well?’

Andrew shut his mouth, not sure whether he could hear laughter in that soft whisper.

‘Just remember that if anything happens to me, you make your way to Godfrey as quietly as you can. He’ll hide you or get you out of the city, whatever he feels is necessary.’

‘Yes, yes, I remember everything you said.’

‘Now you do, yes. But what about if I get caught? Are you going to recall every word while you’re shivering with fear?’

Andrew chewed his lip, not wanting to make some dumb statement about being afraid, and yet not wanting to let Robert think he was a coward.

The decision was taken from his hands. ‘Come now. Follow me and stay close!’

And he was away, scurrying across the cobbled alley, moving as Robert did, letting his body merge with the growing darkness.

He didn’t need to wait for Robert to get captured. He was scared enough right now.

*

There was something a little unsettling about the Guilde guards who waited for him outside the Basilica. Godfrey could still hear the echo of the choir, smell the warmth of incense, and yet neither of those comforts gave him reason to refuse another abrupt summons from Osbert. Chill from more than the weather, he accepted the cloak laid about his shoulders and stepped out into the cold spring evening.

Soon the nights would be shorter. Soon the dark mornings would be brighter and sunshine would last more than the time
between two thick clouds. And then there would be that change in the air, some indefinable essence that existed at no other time of the year. A warmth, perhaps, or even the subtle scent of blossom arriving on the breeze – whatever it was, it only ever lasted a week or so and then was gone, but it always heralded the very last days of the long, long winter.

His solemn-faced guard steered him around the people lingering in the square, almost stifling the noises of the busy city. And then he was once again at the doors to the Guildehall. For the second time in his life, he was taken to Osbert’s study, almost in secrecy, the door closed solidly behind him.

Osbert wasn’t pacing this time. Instead, he was standing before the fireplace, hands behind his back and an expression of bleak fatalism on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Godfrey,’ he began in a voice grey with apology. ‘I know you don’t deserve this. In fact, you deserve so much better for the friendship you’ve offered me over the years – but this matter has gone beyond my needs. I just want you to know now, before it’s too late, that I’m genuinely sorry.’

BOOK: Rebel's Cage (Book 4)
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