Trial of Fire (52 page)

‘Your uncle was a good man.’

‘But my father wasn’t.’ And then Andrew looked away, revealing his face in full moonlight. He spoke softly, as if to himself. ‘You’ll be a good father, Micah. You’re a good man, and your children will be lucky to have you.’

Andrew fell silent then, his gaze lost in the distance. Micah left him with the quiet for a moment, then swung the water-bottles over his shoulder. ‘We should move back now. It’s getting late and Finnlay should return soon with the messages.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Andrew said, as though nothing was wrong, and followed Micah back to the farm.

Even in the darkness, Micah could see where the farm had once been prosperous and was now suffering. Though there should have been animals noises all around, now there was just the sound of a few pigs snuffling in the sty and in the field beyond, a few sheep, but that was all.

Andrew walked with his head down, silence sitting around him like a shroud.

They took the water up to the loft, leaving bottles beside each man, ready for the morning. Just as they were finished, Micah heard the unmistakable sound of a horse approaching and stood to peer out of one of the holes in the loft roof. He relaxed when he saw that it was Finnlay. He turned to find Andrew helping a wounded soldier drink.

‘We’d better go down.’

*

Finnlay’s back ached. Too many hours in the saddle, too much time spent looking over his shoulder. But it was good to reach camp at last.

He brought his horse to a stop just inside the farm gate. Micah took the animal and as he got to the fire, Robert handed him a cup of warmed spiced wine. Finnlay wrapped his tired hands around the cup and sank to an empty seat by the fire.

‘How did you go today?’ was his first question. The Bishop was there, sitting on a firewood stump, his back to the stable, and Andrew sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching him warily.

Robert reached forward to stir up the fire. ‘We opened the grain store but we were discovered before we could get away cleanly and we have two more injuries that need some attention. What about you? You’re very late back. Did you have trouble?’

Finnlay drained his cup and said, ‘There’s a lot of Guilde activity in the north. I had to go back three times before it was clear to do the pick-up. Things are getting more dangerous by the day.’ Their missions took them from one side of the country to the other, never further west than the Goleth Mountains, but even so, their path was taking them inexorably north, towards Marsay, Kenrick and Nash. The opposition was only going to get worse from here.

‘Were there any messages?’ Robert had a few message points set up around the country, safe places where his contacts could leave coded notes. So far, they’d been very lucky about keeping the drop points secret. They’d lost only two to date, and those without any real trauma.

‘Three.’ He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pouch, tossing it in Robert’s direction. Robert didn’t open it immediately, gesturing for Finnlay to continue. ‘Owen says the raid in Brigham went well, though he’s lost two men and has another too badly injured to continue. He does say that he’s had five volunteers join his group, so his numbers are still functional. Expects to have a full complement to bring to Rona.’

Robert’s gaze darkened a little.

‘Daniel has had a lot of trouble with Kenrick’s soldiers; he had to go back over the border once already to escape them. He returned by a different route, undiscovered – but he wanted to tell you that there are a lot of refugees returning, and that we’ll encounter them on our travels. He’s worried about them coming back while Kenrick’s still on the throne.’

Robert shrugged. ‘There’s nothing we can do to stop them. We need the borders open.’

‘Oh, I agree. He also said he’d see us at Rona.’ Finnlay fell silent then, staring into his cup a moment before taking a large swallow. Then his eyes lifted to Micah as he finished with Finnlay’s horse and returned to sit with them. Micah caught the look and raised his eyebrows in question.

Robert knew them both too well to miss such signals. ‘What aren’t you telling me? You said there were three messages.’

Finnlay nodded. ‘Yes.’ It would have been better if he’d lost the last message – but then, Robert had always been bound to find out about this one day. He’d just hoped that it wouldn’t be him who had to break the news. ‘There’s a letter in there from Godfrey. He warns that Kenrick has ordered an army, which by now will be in the field. There’s also a thousand Guildesmen on their way south.’

‘All of which we expected,’ Robert added quietly. ‘And?’

Taking a deep breath, Finnlay continued, ‘And he mentions a … well, I don’t know how else to put this, but the monks at Fenlock, they’ve asked Godfrey to investigate several miracles occurring at Elita. Apparently, the entire area is abuzz with rumours and tales of wondrous sights. And it appears that, as a result of certain other coincidental events, the people of the area, including the monks, believe that it is all a result of the fact that … er, that the new incarnation of Mineah has come—’

‘You’re not serious!’

‘They think Jenn is Mineah, yes.’ Finnlay looked first at Micah, then at Robert. Lastly, he looked to Andrew who sat with his eyes wide open, face golden in the firelight.

‘They think Mother is …’ Andrew got to his feet, but a glance from Robert brought him back down to his seat. ‘How can they think that?’

McCauly answered him. ‘The Hermit of Shan Moss has been foretelling she would come for a long time, almost twenty years. And people believe that – oh, by the mass!’ His voice trailed off in an odd combination of awe and wonder, enough to draw Robert’s cynical gaze.

‘You’re not going to tell me you believe this, are you? You know full well the kinds of things the villagers have seen – sorcery, of one kind or another – some of which wasn’t even Jenn! I can see how they might arrive at that conclusion, not knowing what’s really going on, but you don’t have that same excuse, Bishop. You
know
Jenn. She’s not the goddess.’

Andrew looked at Robert then, almost clinging to the certainty in his voice.

McCauly raised his eyebrows, neither offended nor amused. ‘And why couldn’t she be the goddess? Each incarnation of Mineah takes on a different form, for a different reason. Patric has virtually confirmed that the last incarnation, fighting at Alusia against the Cabal, was in fact a woman
from the Generet. You yourself have tried to convince me of exactly that—’

‘I didn’t. I just tried to suggest that it
might be.’

‘Which is exactly what I’m doing. I take it Godfrey is intending to investigate?’

Finnlay nodded, keeping his head down while sitting between the two men. Nobody liked to get in the middle of an argument between Robert and the Bishop. But the tightness in his gut didn’t ease and he knew he’d have to tell them the rest. ‘Godfrey has sent somebody down to take a look, but he thinks it’s already too late.’

‘Too late?’ Robert asked faintly.

‘He received word, just before he wrote, that a group of six nuns had made a pilgrimage to Elita and had already founded a religious house in the keep. He says that by the time we get the letter, word of it will have spread across the country.’

‘Oh, by Serin’s blood!’ Robert ran both hands over his face. ‘They know she’s alive. They can’t know she killed Eachern, but too many people saw and recognised her at Shan Moss and now they’re … damn it!’ Robert got to his feet and began to pace. ‘We have to stop this. If people take this to heart then this will look more like a religious war – and how will Salti take it if the people think their own Jaibir is the incarnation of the same goddess who defeated the Cabal five hundred years ago? Serin’s blood, they’ll think she’s about to betray them a—’

Robert stopped then, half turned away from the fire, so that Finnlay was the only one who saw his face pale, his eyes widen in abrupt and violent understanding of something. The moment seemed to stretch, but barely a heartbeat later, Robert had recovered and turned back to the fire. He resumed his seat and took the pot of warming wine, lifting it to refill Finnlay’s cup.

‘But, Father,’ Andrew was shaking his head, still a little dazed by the news, ‘You
know
my mother isn’t the goddess. She
can’t
be! Those people just
want
somebody to help them, that’s all. They think if the goddess is here then everything will be fixed soon. They think it’s Mother because she’s the only woman alive who has stood up to Selar and Nash. And because she’s a Ross, and they want to believe a Ross would still be watching over them. It’s all just a lot of wishes and no real substance. I know her, Father, my mother is
not
the goddess.’

There was silence at this impassioned plea, and Finnlay could see he wasn’t the only one who heard the note of desperation in the boy’s voice, though it was Micah who spoke to it. ‘You know Godfrey, my lord. He will treat all with unstinting fairness.’

Andrew visibly relaxed the worst of his tension. He turned his attention to the fire.

‘What are you going to do?’ McCauly ventured.

‘Do?’ Robert’s expression was hard, his eyes glittering. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing we can do. People will believe what they want to believe regardless of what we say.’

‘We have to tell her.’

‘Yes. But
I’ll
do it, if you don’t mind, Bishop.’

‘What? Afraid I’ll contaminate it with too much religious significance?’ Finnlay had never seen the Bishop so close to being truly offended.

For a moment, Robert appeared completely lost at the question, as though he hadn’t understood it at all. Then, his tone bemused, he asked, ‘When have I ever given you that impression? What have I ever done to make you think that? How do you think she’s going to feel, being told people think she’s a goddess? You’ve just heard how her son feels about it. I just think it would be better coming from me, that’s all.’

McCauly studied him, then sat back. ‘I’m sorry.’

Although Finnlay saw Robert accepted the apology, he also knew Robert was holding something back that none of them were likely to hear about.

‘So,’ Finnlay dived into the uncomfortable silence, suddenly unafraid. ‘What are we doing tomorrow?’

There was clear relief in Robert’s voice as he started to reply, ‘Well, the bridge at—’

‘Nothing.’

They both looked up at Andrew, who was deliberately poking at the fire with a twig, ignoring the surprised attention of his elders.

‘Care to elaborate?’ Robert volunteered, though not very kindly.

‘I don’t think we should do anything,’ Andrew replied, his voice only a little unsteady. ‘I think the men are exhausted and need some rest. I think the wounded need to see a proper Healer. I think everybody needs to sleep in a proper bed for a change, and eat a reasonable meal or two. I think they all deserve to laugh and listen to some music and I think that if we don’t do this now, our success rate will plummet and we’ll have more casualties than either of us really want. So, I think tomorrow we should do nothing. And the next day. After that, we can pull down any bridge you care to name.’

Stunned silence surrounded the little fire for a moment, then Robert’s gravelly voice intruded. ‘That’s a good idea. Perhaps we could send a message to Kenrick and ask him to hold off his armies because we’re having a few days’ rest. Perhaps we could ask the entire country to endure their misery for another two days because we’re a little too tired to be bothered helping them.’

Andrew’s head snapped up, fury in his eyes. ‘And how are we to go on helping them if everybody is too tired to pay close enough attention to what they’re doing? You’ve trained all these men very well, Robert, but they need a rest. We’ve been on the road for more than a month, and almost every day we’ve made one hit or another, or travelled great distances. Two more days won’t make a difference to Lusara – but it could be the difference between these men living and dying in the next mission. They need to rest. Especially if—’

‘What?’

‘Especially if Kenrick is headed south. His troops will be fresh. Ours will barely remember the last night’s full sleep they had.’

Robert sat up straight. His voice emerged soft and full of warning. ‘How many chances do you think we have, eh? Do you think this country can survive for ever waiting for us to save it? Do you think the people have an infinite number of times they can support a rebellion? Whatever you
think
, Andrew, you need to understand right now that this is the last time we can do this. Another failure and any faith they had in us will die and they won’t invest in anyone else again. Ultimately, Kenrick and Nash will win because we failed to try hard enough.’

‘You think that I …’ Andrew’s mouth was open in shock.

‘You’ve never agreed to fight him. What else am I to think?’

‘But I’ve done everything—’

‘He’s coming, Andrew.’ Robert got to his feet, tossing the dregs of his wine into the flames, making them sputter and flare blue and yellow. ‘Kenrick is on his way to fight
you
. You want to rest? Fine, we’ll rest. But you need to remember:
you’re
the one who needs to make sure he’s ready for that day. It’s not just your life, your conscience that’s at stake here. The entire country is holding its breath for you.’

With that, Robert tossed his cup to Micah and nodded at Finnlay and McCauly. ‘I’ll speak to everyone in the morning. Goodnight.’ And then he was gone, leaving the air chilly and empty in his wake.

*

Micah heard the first noise, faint and harsh in the night. At the second noise, he sat up and looked over to Andrew lying beside him. The loft was mostly dark, but the full moon gave enough light through the cracks to let him see the faint sheen of sweat over the boy’s face.

Another nightmare.

They’d plagued Andrew most of his life, though not often enough to be a real problem, and for the most part, he never remembered what was in them. But lately, there’d been more, coming hard and shocking in the middle of the night.

This one was no different. Andrew panted, then grunted and twisted restlessly in his blankets, mouthing words nobody could hear.