Scrivener's Tale (67 page)

‘I see. Who am I spying upon?'

‘No spying. Just keep your senses alert. If you feel that magic has found its way into the palace and is close to the queen, I simply want you to warn me. Don't do anything, don't confront anyone, don't even follow the magical trace. Simply register it and find me.'

‘How?'

‘Come back to this spot and I will find you.'

‘How often?'

‘Daily, until you leave the palace and are on your way.' He'd smiled, looking deep into her eyes as though no-one else in the world mattered to him. ‘That's not too hard or intrusive, is it?' She'd shaken her head. ‘And for this, the palace will give you gold. Here,' he had said, pressing two glinting gold coins into her palm, ‘let this be a down payment and a show of goodwill between us sentients. We're going to make a good team, Tilda.'

‘But …' She had felt confused.

‘I don't want you to do anything except what you would normally do,' Tentrell had emphasised, a hand lifted to forestall any objections. ‘I'm presuming you deliver to the kitchens?' Tilda had nodded. ‘Then stay where you normally would. Keep your senses alert for the presence of magic and you just have to meet me here and let me know. Master Burrage pays very well for the protection of the queen and Princess Darcelle.'

‘I don't understand who might want to hurt them?'

‘Neither does he. He's being very cautious. Cipres is a place that pays homage to the old ways. Tallinor, its huge and powerful neighbour, is renowned for its magic — I've been there. It has an academy to teach magic and encourage the use of it, so I believe Master Burrage is being wise and simply making sure that nothing untoward enters the palace. It's easy money, Tilda. I will give you quadruple this amount when we next meet.'

Her eyes had widened in shock. She'd never seen so much money in her life, let alone held it. Owning it would be beyond even her brightest, most fanciful dreams.

‘What will you do with it, Tilda?' he'd said then, as if reading her thoughts.

She remembered how she'd smiled, embarrassed. ‘I want to open my own shop. I'm tired of being a wandering seller. I'm getting too old for the cart and horse. I'd like to settle down with a cottage and a shop and have my own large garden that grows everything I need for my teas. I'd also branch out into herbal tonics.'

He'd given a shrug. ‘And now you can. That dream you hold in your heart can be a reality. You'll have more than enough gold to settle down immediately. No more harsh winters on the road for you, Tilda.'

So now she waited, having been seduced by Layne Tentrell into spying on the queen. She hadn't expected anything to occur, of course, and once she'd left him, the two gold coins clanking with a happy heaviness inside her robe, she'd begun to feel her spirits soar. This was going to be the easiest way to make money.

What she didn't foresee was Layne Tentrell's prediction and Master Burrage's fears coming home to roost. She had not sensed any magic being used in the palace and yet, with all the deaths the next day, she could all but smell the trace of magic that had caused them. When that lovely young Hamelyn had found her and begged for her help, she'd gladly gone with him to assist his companion. Nothing had prepared her for the reek of magic that swirled around Hamelyn's friend.

She hadn't told Layne Tentrell — it was something she never admitted to anyone — that she could smell magic. That was her real talent. Her own magic was weak as she readily admitted, but she could smell magic on others — like Tentrell, just like Ham and like the boy's good-looking friend. She'd been intrigued by the man, Cassien, and his power to kill. If he'd wanted to harm the royals he would have done so. Therefore, he was no enemy. Then what was he?

From what she'd gathered, no-one knew about Cassien's magical skills — not even Hamelyn. Presumably, the chancellor and Empress Florentyna had been unaware of his skills when they'd appointed him champion. Tilda had decided to ignore Tentrell's instructions and try to learn more about Cassien. He'd pressed her for directions and she'd simply said she might head north, which was the truth. Then she'd used all her money to take a carriage north to Mickelsham, where she knew he would come through on horseback. What she hadn't expected was to see the queen in his company. While not in disguise, the queen was certainly doing everything in her power not to promote her identity, even though most people wouldn't know what she looked like in everyday clothes. Darcelle was unmistakable, but Florentyna kept herself to herself.

An even greater shock had been to discover that Cassien was using his powers to aid the Crown. She needed to assure Layne Tentrell that the queen was in safe hands; that the magic, which had come to the palace, was working for the benefit of the royals.

And so here she sat beneath the walnut tree, awaiting Layne Tentrell to give him the good news and hopefully to earn some gold that would secure her future. She could never have anticipated soldiers bearing down on her. She could not outrun them and her mind was too slow to catch on that they had come for her.

‘I'm meeting Layne Tentrell,' she'd bleated, ‘and I'm helping Chancellor Burrage,' she'd added, breaking Tentrell's rule to not mention the Crown's involvement.

‘Burrage is dead. So is Tentrell,' the hard-faced man who gripped her arm said. ‘And we were told by her highness, Princess Darcelle, before she left the palace, to meet with you. She wishes to speak with you about the disappearance of her sister.'

And something in Tilda's sharp perceptions told her she would likely not live to see another sunrise.

‘It doesn't pay to dance with the devil,' she said to them but they couldn't understand her meaning nor did they pay her much heed.

‘But why would he have a spy?' Florentyna asked as Cassien was dumbfounded by Fynch's words.

‘We are not dealing with a criminal, your majesty,' Fynch said evenly. ‘We're not even confronting a person as you might recognise one. We are trying to outwit an ancient mind that has already seen much cunning, and has watched Morgravia for centuries. Not only is he intrigued by the magic of Myrren that came from the Wild and so profoundly affected your forebears, which he is now using to his advantage, he also has a grudge against the empire because of the Wild itself and what it did to him.'

She frowned.

‘Cassien can tell you all about it on the next part of your journey. Suffice to say that, because of his interest in its magic and his grudge, he is levelling his wrath at the imperial Crown. It wouldn't matter if your father sat on the throne, or Darcelle …' He shrugged. ‘He wants to hurt the empire and the best way is through its figurehead. Killing is not his intention, I realise. Possessing you — as he did Gabriel, or more recently your sister — is his aim. His ultimate revenge would be to then use the Crown to turn Morgravia against Briavel and the former Razor Kingdom and incite wars between neighbours, destroying the empire from within.'

‘What about the Wild?' she asked. ‘I've never known much about it, only that no-one goes there and most Briavellians fear it.'

‘Wisely so. It is not a place for people. It is beautiful, but it is magical and dangerous, erratic and powerful. It's a strange marriage, you could say. It protects your realm and those of the empire, but the people, in turn, must respect its privacy. It is available to the animals and the forests and is full of magic so ancient that I am still discovering much of it. You have no need to enter its territory — no-one does — but it will fiercely fight to protect the land it neighbours.'

‘What a strange phenomenon,' she murmured.

‘It is. I don't know why it came into existence. I suspect the Wild has always existed, long before inhabitants came to the surrounding regions.'

‘You're from the Wild, Fynch, aren't you?' she said, beginning to piece together the puzzle.

‘Yes. I am simply the keeper … a caretaker if you will.'

‘How are keepers chosen?' Cassien wondered.

‘By the dragon and his filial mortal. Before me it was Elysius; before him I do not know.'

‘And after you?' the queen said and then checked herself. ‘Forgive me, Fynch, that was unfair of me.'

‘Not at all. It is a valid question,' he said with a disarming smile. ‘There will be someone chosen. The point is the keeper's role is simply to observe the ebb and flow of magic beyond the Wild in order to keep it safe … and thus keeping our land safe. Magic exists everywhere, most of it harmless and used for the good of others — healing, herbals, farming, teaching …' He shook his head. ‘Rarely, something sinister comes along and that's when the keeper's role becomes more important. It's why I have paid a lot of attention to Cyricus and why his putting a spy or two in the palace does not surprise me in the least. His mind is far more complex and capable than you can imagine.'

Cassien stood. ‘So, if Tilda is a spy, she would be telling him that we're headed to the Great Forest.'

‘I would imagine so.'

He paced. ‘She knew of my power, and now, Shar strike me, she knows that I can see him when I roam. I was too open with her.' He gave a growling sound and Romaine's ears pricked.

Dawning appeared in Florentyna's expression. ‘Cassien, I remember now, she looked shocked when you admitted that. Don't you recall how she sat back, looking surprised. She covered it well but I was already slightly suspicious of her because she wouldn't answer any of my questions easily. I mean …' Florentyna searched for how to explain what she wanted to. ‘It was a feeling I had, that she was constantly deflecting me.'

‘Your feelings might have served you truly, my queen.'

Cassien scratched his chin. ‘Wait, Fynch! Although I agree that I've probably pointed Cyricus toward us, is that really such a bad thing?'

Florentyna looked at him askance, and Fynch frowned.

‘Hear me out. There's going to be a confrontation, come what may. You say Gabe is in place and ready to lure Cyricus into the Void?'

‘He is. But he's going to need Cyricus to feel threatened enough and angry enough to leave Darcelle's body for the Void. As a royal, Cyricus is now in a position to command the Legion. You need time to hatch a plan to isolate him, and then force him to cast aside the body of the princess.' He glanced with a grave expression at Florentyna. ‘Forgive me, your majesty. I know this is painful for you and must sound cruel.' She nodded but her expression told him she understood. He returned his attention to Cassien. ‘You can hide and wait, but I think you should stay one step ahead. He will find you, make no mistake. He's after Florentyna and has no reason to give up, for he is in no hurry — he's probably enjoying himself and feels no sense of threat, although he knows now that we are aware of him. This will only intensify his pleasure of the game. He will employ more cunning, behave in a more outrageously vicious way to draw his enemies to him.'

Cassien nodded. ‘Yes, you're right, it's too dangerous. Tilda may be back at the palace already. Cyricus could be on his way. We need a bit more time.'

‘A wise precaution,' Fynch echoed. ‘As I say, she may not be a spy, but trust those instincts of your queen. Go to Rittylworth. I suspect Ham will make for there, too.'

Cassien seemed to agree because he nodded. ‘What about you?'

‘I shall remain here,' Fynch said, ‘or at least for the time being.'

‘But why? Surely —'

‘Cassien, my son, do not question me,' he said. It was a reprimand, but said so gently that Cassien's expression reflected no rancour. ‘I have my path to follow. You have yours.' He directed Cassien's gaze to Florentyna. ‘The queen is your total responsibility now. Do not think on me.'

‘How will I know what to do?' Cassien asked, looking vaguely unnerved.

‘You and your brothers will know exactly what to do. I cannot tell you how events will come to pass. I can only tell you that you are each equipped to play your part. I can do no more. It is up to the Triad of my sons to best Cyricus.' He pointed at the sword resting silently at Cassien's hip. ‘Remember that was made for you.'

‘Beautiful, but I've had little need to draw it.'

‘Don't ignore its presence,' Fynch said, sounding cryptic.

‘When will we see you?' Florentyna queried, knowing this was what Cassien really wanted to ask.

Fynch smiled and shuffled over, although it looked to be painful for him to do so. He took her hand in his and she felt his palm, dry and warm. The old man surprised her by kissing it. ‘Empress Florentyna, thank you for trusting me.'

‘I didn't show it enough, did I?' she said, wishing she could turn time back.

‘You were open to my concerns though, my queen. I know what I said resonated within you. If not, you wouldn't have paid heed to Cassien, to Gabe, even Ham, and had enough faith to entrust your wellbeing to them.'

‘I hope to see you again under less anxious circumstances,' she said.

‘I look forward to it, your majesty,' and as his pale eyes sparkled, she thought she saw the gleam of a secret … and instinctively knew, and accepted, that he was avoiding the truth, perhaps for Cassien's sake.

She nodded. ‘Take care, Master Fynch. Morgravia … indeed the empire owes you a debt of gratitude.'

His brief, intense gaze spoke his thanks, knowing she understood.

‘Cassien,' he said, turning to hug his middle son again, ‘our reunion as father and son has been short-lived but heartfelt, child.' He held Cassien at arm's length, looking up to the towering figure, who looked back with a deeply sad expression. Florentyna suspected that Cassien was hiding his emotions and likely also understood this was a true goodbye. She had to look away, made herself busy tying on her cloak and moving toward her horse. She heard their words of farewell.