Trial of Fire (61 page)

‘I need some food. Then begin to pack. We’ll leave to rejoin the King.’ Nash left him to his work and pulled a chair up to the brazier. He’d always hated the cold, and in the long years of his incapacitation, he’d grown particularly vulnerable to chills and drafts. Though his regeneration had changed all that, tonight – or rather, this morning – it was as though nothing had changed.

Never before had he felt so old, never had he drifted so close to outright failure. Every night for weeks now he’d spent his time Seeking across the country, looking for any sign at all of the Key, the Enemy, the Ally, but there was nothing. It was as though they’d all simply disappeared, or had never existed anywhere but in his imagination.

How had he managed to make that contact with the Key in the first place? Or had the contact been with the Enemy? But if it had, he’d been in close contact with the Key, as he’d been sure of the doubling and trebling of layers beneath, and absolutely positive that he’d actually touched the Key himself, after more than a hundred years searching for it.

It must have been the regeneration, because he’d just emerged, fresh and new, bristling with a power he could now barely remember. But even if he found another’s blood to use in such a manner – assuming he could find somebody powerful enough, soon enough – there was no guarantee he
could recreate that connection and without that connection, he could not find the Key. Without the Key, he could not—

He drained his wine again, resting his head on the back of the chair. That poison had nearly achieved what Prophecy, a hundred years, a dozen wars and the Enemy had failed to do. Did the Malachi have any idea just how close he’d come to death? No, they couldn’t have, for if they had, there was no doubt they would have tried it again by now. He’d been so sure he was invulnerable to anything since his regeneration, but alas, he’d jumped too soon: a child of his and Valena’s blood had given extraordinary strength, but everything he’d ever read had confirmed the Prophecy: that it would be only a child of the Enemy and Ally who could give him immortality.

Or a child of the Ally, fathered by
him
 – a child that would never now be conceived. The art of the seductress, Valena’s one great power was to make a man fulfill his potential – or to destroy it completely. He had forgotten. In the depths of his illness, he had let down his barriers and lost the one thing she had given him.

Now he had only one hope left: the Key. There was enough power in the Key to undo what she’d done, to heal all his wounds, to perhaps grant him immortality on its own. And the only way to the Key was through the Enemy.

So be it.

Nash got out of his chair, threw off his robe and began to dress. Taymar appeared with food on a tray and he ate in silence. An hour later, he was mounted and riding into the dawn.

*

The sound of horses woke Aiden from a fitful, yet comfortable sleep. They’d been brought blankets, but with five men in the tent, there was barely enough room for them all to lie down. Despite his curiosity, he had resisted the urge to speak to Vaughn. They all needed rest if they were to be shipped off to see Kenrick. It would be interesting to see what the King made of the Hermit of Shan Moss. It was hard enough at the best of times living with a legend – and Aiden knew all about that – but it was another thing altogether when that legend comes upon you, bringing pronouncements from the gods.

He could hear voices from the other side of the canvas wall, hushed and rapid words spilled out into the early morning. Then the flap was pulled back and Osbert appeared. His eyes turned first to Aiden, then he stood aside, ushering another man in.

‘Wake up, all of you.’ Though Osbert’s voice was quiet, it held the weight of urgency.

Aiden carefully got to his feet, joints protesting the night’s harsh
treatment. As the others rose they stood back so the unknown man could deposit a large cloth bundle on the floor. With little fuss, he undid the rope holding it closed and let it open before them.

It was full of Guilde robes, as bright a yellow as the sun. Aiden looked to Osbert for answers.

The Proctor started speaking, quickly and urgently, ‘Nash has gone to join Kenrick. He knows nothing about you being here. Everyone is to wear one of these, and make sure it looks genuine. There are horses waiting outside for you. I want you all gone before sunrise.’

‘Gone?’ Aiden queried, even as the others were already sorting out the robes and dressing. ‘But what about—’

‘Go back to Robert, McCauly, and take this’ – he gestured at Vaughn – ‘with you. This is more trouble than I can – or want – to deal with. He’s the great hero, let him make what he can of this so-called hermit. Since he’s failed to come and rescue you, I’m going to assume he’s already left this region, and if that’s the case, there’s no point in my staying, either. So we’re all off to meet up with Kenrick. He’s marching to Rona because he thinks he’ll find all the rebels there in one place, though why, I couldn’t tell you. I can say, in all sincerity, that I hope never to see any of you again.’

With a last look around, Osbert turned and left the tent, leaving Aiden amazed.

‘Quickly, Father,’ Lyle said as he handed him a robe roughly his size. ‘We have very little time.’

‘This doesn’t make any sense.’ Robert opened his eyes. In front of him sat Andrew, Jenn and Patric.

‘What doesn’t make sense?’ Andrew looked up, his eyes tired.

‘I thought I had Braden before, but now I can’t find Finnlay.’

‘Robert,’ Jenn ventured, almost not caring whether he listened or not, ‘you need to rest. You’ve been at this almost all night. We have other Seekers who can take over for a few hours. You don’t have to do everything yourself.’

He didn’t look at her. Instead, he got up again, stretching his neck this way and that. ‘I sent Finnlay out there, and now I can’t find him. I should never have let the Bishop go out on his own. If something happens to Finn as well—’

Jenn stood too. ‘He’s shielding, that’s all.’

‘Shielding? From even me? He’s never been that strong before.’

‘He’s had years to practise, Robert. I’m sure he’s putting every effort possible into it because he knows Nash is around and probably looking for the Key. Remember, Nash knows Finn’s aura too.’

It was a moment before she knew she’d got through to him. Robert stopped his pacing and drew in a deep breath.

‘I’ll go and get some brew,’ Andrew volunteered, getting to his feet.

Jenn could hear the men behind them, waking into the morning, talking quietly, stirring up fires ready for the day. The night had been subdued; nobody liked the idea that, on the brink of battle, they’d lost their spiritual leader, least of all Robert. Of course, his first instinct had been to go out and mount a rescue himself, but he refused to either leave Andrew here, or to take him. So Finnlay had volunteered to go, along with twenty of their best men, and that had left Robert spending half the night trying to Seek Edain or Braden and, in the last hour, Finnlay himself.

His lack of success drove him to increasingly greater efforts, which in turn made him worry more and focus less. He was too tired, and all of them knew it, but none would say it. Robert had spent the last two months fighting, running, hiding, getting wounded and worrying about an entire country, turning a boy into a King, and doing it all on only a few short hours’ sleep each night.

And soon he would have to face Nash.

‘Robert, you need to rest,’ she repeated, but he ignored her, as he usually did now. It only made her more angry. ‘By the gods, why do you have to be so damned stubborn?’ she muttered.

His eyes shot up to hers then and she almost flinched. ‘You should just be damned grateful I am this stubborn, or else—’ He broke off abruptly as Andrew returned with cups of brew for them all. As Jenn took hers, she tried to get Andrew to meet her gaze, but, like his father, he couldn’t quite do it.

Had she really lost them both? So quickly? Jenn wasn’t going to allow herself to get bogged down in this when there were other lives at stake. They could solve their personal differences later, when they could afford the luxury of time. ‘I’m sorry, Patric, Andrew, I need to speak to Robert alone for a moment. Perhaps you could go and see if there is any breakfast yet.’

She watched Andrew look once to Robert. Patric got to his feet and, with a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, followed him back to the main camp where fires were already warming the cold day.

‘I told you I wanted you to go,’ Robert began, his voice low and venomous, but also reeking with exhaustion.

‘And I told you I’m staying. Are we going to have this argument every hour?’

‘Until you go, yes.’

‘Fine. In the meantime, I’ll do your thinking for you, shall I?’ Jenn leaned against the nearest tree and folded her arms, never once taking her eyes off him. ‘You are pushing yourself up to and beyond your limits. And don’t even think you can fool me, of all people. I know you better than you know yourself. I know you’re tired, I know you’re worried, and I damn sure know you’re scared. But if you don’t rest, if you don’t take the time to heal, when Nash comes, you won’t have an ounce of energy left to fight him. Your reactions will be slow and your ability to think will be halved. You’re already having trouble Seeking Braden, when, just a few hours ago, you found him without too much trouble. Robert Douglas, I have absolutely every possible faith in you to beat Nash, but you need to allow yourself to do it. And clinging stubbornly to your hatred of me as an excuse not to listen is a piece of stupidity the like of which I had never thought you capable.’

He looked not at her, but out across the wild moor, where crusty knots of trees were bent against a wind from previous years. ‘I don’t hate you,’ he said, though his tone belied that statement, as cold and frosty as any winter. ‘But I can’t trust anything you say any more.’

‘Why? Because I didn’t tell you the child you gave me was yours? Because you disappeared an hour after he was conceived, and didn’t return until an hour before he was born? Because I knew you
would
acknowledge him – and I was already married to Eachern? Because every minute of your life from the moment you spoke the Word, you’ve been fighting this rebellion, and haven’t known a single moment’s peace since, and have blamed yourself for every ill this country’s ever known? Because I refused to add another to it? Because I knew you would blame yourself for leaving me with your child? Is that why you can’t trust me, Robert? Is it?’ Jenn swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to cry in front of him.

How could he love her and not understand? How could he swear his life for hers and yet make no effort to see that she had done it for him?

‘What would you have done with a son, Robert? What kind of life would he have had? You think I didn’t know what he was heir to? If you had taken him, he
would
have been branded a bastard and you would now have no new King to place on that throne.’

‘That’s hindsight, and you know it!’ he broke in, angrily.

‘To you, perhaps it is – but you forget, I’ve known all along that he was yours.’

‘And you think I would have ruined his life if I had acknowledged him? There have been bastards on thrones before now – or is it you don’t think I would have been a fit father for him? Did you want him all for yourself? Or have you some other scheme in mind?’

‘Robert,’ Jenn sighed, seeing the glowing darkness in him growing stronger with every word, ‘I’m just saying you need to rest. That’s all. If Finnlay were here, or the Bishop, they’d say the same.’

He turned and looked at her then, and there was nothing familiar in his gaze. ‘The Bishop thinks it’s entirely possible you’re the incarnation of Mineah. I should not need to remind you that the last time Mineah came to us, she fought against the Cabal in favour of the Empire, and was responsible for almost wiping out sorcerers from the face of the world.’ He walked towards her, using his height to make her look up. ‘Everything you say makes perfect sense to me, and yet all I keep thinking is that a few weeks ago, at the Enclave, we promised each other that we would have no more lies between us, because we both knew we’d be in this position one day, readying ourselves to face Nash. We made that promise, both of us, and yet, you never meant it, and that is what I do not understand. Why say such a thing when you didn’t mean it? See, these are the questions I have to ask myself because we’re not talking about how my love for you seems to mean absolutely nothing to you, but instead, we’re talking about the future of this country, and perhaps the whole world, if Nash gets his hands on the
Key. So you tell me, Jenny,’ Robert paused, his voice breaking at the last, ‘do you really think I should trust anything you say?’

She could find no words, nothing to show him the light to the darkness inside him. From the moment she’d joined with the Key, she’d broken his trust, and even now, when it was so important they be united, he couldn’t even acknowledge a simple fact he knew to be true, because she was the one saying it.

She turned away then, swallowing again, pushing down the pain, though it had nowhere to go. But as she moved, she saw Andrew standing near by – close enough to have heard at least a little of what Robert had said. He looked bewildered, and horribly lost. She looked back to Robert, ready to say something, anything to make it right for them, but Andrew didn’t wait.

‘Father?’

It might have been the Word of Destruction for the effect it had on Robert. He shuddered and closed his eyes. Then, his voice a whisper, he said, for her ears only, ‘Please, Jenny, just go. I’ll rest, I promise. Just leave me.’

Jenn pulled in a breath to ease her tight throat, then walked away from her lover and her son, out onto the moors. She heard Andrew calling to her, but she couldn’t face him now. When the wind picked up, it turned the tears on her cheeks to ice.

*

‘Father, are you going to tell me—’

‘No, I’m not,’ Robert said, shaking his head, which was enough to make him sway on his feet. ‘And you can’t call me that.’

‘Why not?’