The Jackal of Nar (51 page)

“Where have you been?” asked Jojustin icily. His thin face was twisted with fury.

“Out,” Richius said evasively, dropping his cape onto a wall peg. “Where’s Sabrina?”

“Don’t ignore me,” warned Jojustin. “I’m very angry, and I want to know where you were tonight!”

“Jojustin, it’s late. I’m tired and I want to talk to Sabrina. Where is she?”

“She’s in the kitchen with Jenna. She’s been in a state since coming home. Explain yourself, Richius.”

“Not now,” said Richius, walking past his steward into the hall. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He heard Jojustin’s offended grunt but kept going, ignoring the old man’s ire. There was only one person he
had
to explain himself to, one person who truly deserved an explanation for what he’d done. Jojustin might stay angry with him for days, but that wasn’t important. His responsibility was to his wife, and he knew he had shirked it. As he walked through the dim halls he hummed to himself, piecing together the fragments of his story and trying to arrange them in just the right way to spare Sabrina’s feelings. A single question nagged at him—did Sabrina know about Dyana? It certainly seemed so to him, yet he couldn’t reason how. Only Patwin and Dinadin knew about her, and neither of them had divulged the secret to Sabrina. Then it occurred to him in an ugly flash that there was only one real way she could have known. Everything that ever happened in Dring was in his journal. If she had dared even a peek at it …

He moved with urgency into the dining room. Beyond, he could hear Sabrina’s breaking voice, and Jenna’s calm, sisterly replies. He froze, trying but failing to decipher the muffled sentences. Bracing himself, he stepped into the kitchen. Sabrina was seated on a work stool, a handkerchief dangling limply in her hand. Jenna stood beside her. A fire smoldered in the cooking hearth, filling the kitchen with the greasy smell of burned
fat. They both stared up at him. Frustrated tears streaked Sabrina’s reddened cheeks. She wiped at them quickly with the handkerchief.

“Jenna,” said Richius easily. “Would you leave us alone, please?”

Jenna looked down at Sabrina, who nodded her assent. The older woman bent to kiss the younger’s forehead. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” said Jenna, then stalked past Richius without a glance.

Suddenly alone, Sabrina rose from the stool and went to the washbasin filled with dirty pots and gray, sudsy water. Her back was turned to him as she lifted a pot from the basin and began scrubbing. She seemed not to notice the water dripping onto her feet.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said thinly. “I was getting concerned.”

“I’m sorry,” answered Richius. It was all he could manage. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I was … thinking.”

The back of her blond head bobbed as she nodded.

“Sabrina,” continued Richius. “Please look at me.”

Sabrina lowered her hands into the basin full of dishes. Her head slumped. “I cannot.” Her sagging shoulders began to shake. He went to her and put his hands on her arms, turning her to face him.

“Please,” he implored. “Let me explain.…”

“Explain what?” she flared, jerking from his embrace. “I really don’t want to hear any more of your lies, Richius. Spare me tonight, I beg you.”

Richius held firm. “I want you to listen to me. You should know the truth.”

“Should I?” said Sabrina with a laugh. “Good. Then go ahead and tell me. Tell me about how you saw a Triin that wasn’t there and how you left me to find my own way home in the dark. Tell me more lies about your friend Dinadin and why you never mentioned him.” She stepped closer and glowered at him, her face the semblance of a demon. “And why don’t you tell me about your precious Triin whore!”

Richius gritted his teeth. He took the time to calm himself before speaking again. “Patwin didn’t tell you about her, did he?”

“No,” admitted Sabrina fearlessly. “I read about her in your damn diary. Now I know why you never told me about Dinadin. You were afraid I’d find out about
her
.” She laughed bitterly. “Don’t leave your things lying around, Richius, not if you’re going to be as moody as you’ve been.”

“You had no right to read my journal,” said Richius. He was less angry than disappointed, but he could almost understand her actions. “There was no reason for you to know any of it.”

“I disagree. I wanted to know what was wrong with my husband, and you certainly weren’t telling me. No one was.”

“And you think you can know what I’ve been through by reading my journal? Sabrina, I tried to spare you all that misery.” He looked away, shaking his head. “You can never understand.”

“I think I can,” said Sabrina. “You love this woman. That’s why you’re so unhappy. You’re stuck with me when you want someone else. What’s so difficult about that? I love you but I can’t have you. It’s the same thing.”

“But you do have me,” argued Richius. “I’m your husband.”

Sabrina gave another short laugh. “I don’t want the ring, Richius. I want the man. But I can’t have him, can I?”

Richius didn’t answer. He walked over to the tiny stool she had vacated and sat down, gazing blindly at the kitchen floor. He was almost relieved she knew about Dyana. It would make the rest of his news easier.

“I have to tell you something,” he said weakly. “About Lucyler.”

“Ah, Lucyler,” said Sabrina. “That’s the name. Did you find him?”

“Yes, I did. I spoke to him.”

“Oh? And what did he tell you? Is he coming for dinner soon?”

Richius looked at Sabrina mournfully, unable to raise even the smallest smile. The malice on her face melted under his gaze, until she appeared as placid and beautiful as the day he had met her, stranded on the muddy road to Nar. That was months ago now, and he realized abruptly that he hardly even knew her.

“What is it?” Sabrina asked.

“I’m going away for a while, I’m not sure how long.” He watched as her eyes grew wide. “I’ve made plans to meet
Lucyler in the Iron Mountains three days from now. He has something important to tell me, something he couldn’t tell me today.”

Sabrina seemed stricken.

“I hope I won’t be gone very long,” Richius went on, “but it’s hard to say. There’s some danger, too. There may be Drol waiting for me when I get to the mountains. I trust Lucyler, but I don’t know—”

“Oh, God,” groaned Sabrina, rushing to him and falling to her knees before the stool. She took his hand, putting it to her cheek. “Don’t tell me any more,” she begged. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Unable to pull back his hand, Richius let her have it, sitting in agony as she smothered it with imploring kisses. He had expected her to rage, perhaps even to strike him, but this affection was shattering. He put his head back and groaned, hating himself. At last Sabrina looked up at him. In that moment she was like a dutiful puppy, eager to please the master who had beaten her. He pulled on her hand and lifted her to her feet again, drawing her tightly to him. Her body yielded to his grasp.

“I’m leaving in the morning,” he told her gently. “This is something I must do. I want you to try very hard to understand why. Will you listen to me?”

She nodded, obviously unable to speak, and dropped her head in anticipation of his story. Richius screwed up his courage. His hands trembled as they drew her onto his lap.

“You see,” he began warily. “This fellow Lucyler was like a brother to me in Dring. He wasn’t just another soldier. He was like Patwin and Dinadin. A friend. We trusted each other with our lives, and I still would trust any one of them to the end. Now I really can’t say how he appeared to me. The Triin have magic to do some strange things, and maybe he was using some to contact me. But it was him, I know it was, and he needs me to go to him.”

“But why?” asked Sabrina. “What does he want of you? Why can’t he just come to the castle to speak with you?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Perhaps he can’t. There’s certainly more to this than he’s telling me.” Richius swallowed hard. “And there’s more to it than I’m telling you.”

“Tell me,” Sabrina insisted.

“I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to,” Richius continued. “Even
Lucyler’s friendship isn’t enough to lure me back into Lucel-Lor. But he told me something, something he knew I couldn’t ignore.”

“Something about her?”

Richius nodded. “He knows where she is, Sabrina. She’s alive. He wouldn’t tell me where she is, not unless I came to meet him in the mountains. After that he promised he would tell me everything.”

Sabrina fell into a contemplative silence.

“Don’t you see, Sabrina?” Richius asked hopefully. “I can keep my promise to her now. I can save her.”

“I know about your promise. You don’t need to explain it to me. It’s all in your journal, after all.”

Richius shut his eyes. “I want to explain it to you. I want you to know why I’m going back for her.”

“I know why,” said Sabrina. “Because you love her.”

Richius felt like a child. He nodded dumbly. “Yes,” he choked. “I do. I don’t want to love her, but I do. I have since I first saw her.”

The pain on Sabrina’s face was wrenching. “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s what it’s like.”

“I’m under a spell, Sabrina,” Richius went on. “She’s done something to me. Maybe it won’t make sense to you, but I was so alone in the valley. Every day I thought I would die. And every day it seemed more of my friends did die. I was losing everything fast. But then suddenly she appeared. She let me take her and I’ve never been the same.” He looked down at the floor. “Now I want no one else. You’re so beautiful, Sabrina. So beautiful. But …”

His voice trailed off with a sputter. Sabrina sighed then climbed gingerly off his lap. On her face was the most disquieting smile.

“This woman must be something very special. I’ve been trying to get you to talk about Lucel-Lor for months, but I never realized what a horror it had been for you. If you would go back there for her …” She shrugged resignedly. “I can’t compete.”

Richius stared at her, stupefied. “What are you saying?”

“Go to her,” she said simply. “I can’t stop you. I won’t even try. You obviously love her very much.” A forlorn smile played across her lips. “Maybe even more than I love you.”

Richius hung his head. “God, I’m sorry,” he said. There was no peace within him at her words, just a hollow, filthy feeling. Remarkably, he had gotten her consent for his wild, adulterous scheme. But he wanted more. He wanted absolution. “Forgive me,” he begged. “This is something I
must
do. If I can save her, maybe I can be whole again.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” replied Sabrina coolly. There were no tears now. “I think you’re right, Richius. I think you’ll die if you don’t do this. Your guilt is destroying you. It’s so plain when I look at you. And I love you. Maybe someday you’ll love me, too, but if that day never comes I’ll continue loving you anyway, and you’ll never have to say you didn’t try to save her.” She went to him and, lifting his chin with a finger, placed a light kiss on his lips. “I want you to return safely. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I promise,” said Richius, almost choking on the words. “Will you be here waiting for me?”

Sabrina turned slowly and headed for the door. “I’m your wife,” she said. “I’ll be here.”

“Don’t go,” Richius cried, jumping to his feet. “I don’t want to say good-bye like this. There’s so much more I want to tell you.”

“No,” Sabrina cautioned. “There’s nothing more to say. I’ve already read it in your journal. I understand better than you think. And don’t say good-bye to me. Leave in the morning without looking back. I’ll wait for your return.”

“Will you come to bed with me tonight?”

Sabrina shook her head. “I’ve made arrangements to share Jenna’s chambers. I don’t want to see you until you return.”

“All right,” agreed Richius reluctantly. “And I will return, Sabrina. Whether I save her or not. I’ll be the husband you’re worthy of, I swear it.”

Sabrina said nothing, only smiled at him again. Moments ago it was she who had been like a child, wailing for him to love her. Now he was performing for her approval. He tried vainly to return her smile, flashing her only a tired grimace instead, and watched her leave the gloomy kitchen, dropping her tear-stained handkerchief behind her.

• • •

That night, a monstrous guilt infected Richius’ sleep. It was after midnight when he finally retired, falling into a restless slumber poisoned with nightmares of Lucel-Lor. Lucyler haunted his dreams, and Dyana made appearances, too, slipping repeatedly into Tharn’s infinite fog. Occasionally he would awaken, shaken out of sleep by some nameless vision, and reach over to where Sabrina should have been, only to feel the cold emptiness of vacant sheets. When at last the dawn beckoned him, he was ready for it.

He went to his closets and chose his outfit carefully, selecting a particularly militant ensemble of brown leather armor. Light enough to ride in, it was nevertheless tough enough to withstand any rigors the Drol might have planned for him. Upon the left breast was emblazoned a winged blue dragon, the crest of the Aramoor Guardsmen, its tail coiling menacingly down the left sleeve. The last time Richius saw Edgard, the old war duke had been wearing the same uniform. Richius examined his reflection in the mirror, telling himself that Edgard would have understood. He sat on the bed and laced up his knee-length boots, the ones that were unworn and polished ebony black. Lastly came Jessicane. He strapped the sword across his back, turning to admire the dazzling scabbard. A gift from Biagio, he remembered painfully. A bribe to go back and murder more Triin. Thankfully Liss was delaying that order. Now he was getting a chance to go back for Dyana without Arkus’ aid.

For a very long time he stared at himself in the mirror, absently contemplating the man looking back at him. He was the king of Aramoor and the Jackal of Dring, but most of all he was a man in love. Perhaps it was a valueless love, perhaps Dyana had even forgotten about him. Yet somehow he knew she was waiting for him, that fate or a god or the force of Triin magic had delivered the news of her existence to him for a reason. He
would
find her, he promised, and if possible he would save her. If he could only get her back to Aramoor, she would be safe forever. Whatever else might happen he simply couldn’t say. He was married, and would never break his vows or his latest promise to Sabrina. Dyana would be a constant temptation but at least she would be alive, protected within the borders of Aramoor.