Voice Of The Demon (Book 2) (25 page)

Jennifer took a few steps up and down the tiny room, then stopped, her mind obviously working furiously. ‘Markallen knows who you are?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you want to get out of the country? Without being discovered? You know what will happen if you fail?’

‘Yes.’ Rosalind had had more than a week to ruminate over every single detail of that possible outcome. ‘That’s why I have come to you. Only you can help me.’

Again, Jennifer shook her head. ‘Why? How can I be of service to you?’

How best to explain the inexplicable? A feeling, an instinct?

Impossible. Only reason would suffice here. ‘I know of your past. You were not brought up delicately, as most ladies of your station. You have survived alone and unaided in the land. You’ve overcome difficulties before and I’m sure you can do so again. You are also of the blood royal; your father one of the few alive who fought against my husband, the only one alive who continues to defy him in any measure at all. I dared not approach the borders near to Marsay. They would be patrolled too closely. My only hope is to get as far south as possible, perhaps even find a ship. When I heard of your aid to the healers, I was convinced you could help me. My only question is, will you?’

Jennifer glanced up at this. ‘That’s not a question.’ She turned for the door and raised her voice slightly. ‘Shane?’

The handsome young man reappeared instantly, shutting out the cold night air.

‘We’ll need horses and food for a week. We can’t use my father’s stock or he’ll know. We’ll also need Keagan to accompany us – and Addie will have to provide an excuse for me tomorrow. Once we know how quickly Hugh will be able to travel, we’ll set off home.’

Briskly, Jennifer turned back to Rosalind, the shock and surprise having been replaced by a calm efficiency. ‘We’ll go tomorrow night. I’ll be back to collect you. Be ready to leave
an hour after dark. Until then, don’t even think about going outside. Oh, how is Markallen’s mother?’

Rosalind was happy to smile, ‘Upstairs asleep. She’s been improving over the last few days, I hear. I think she’ll outlive all of us.’

‘At the rate we’re going, that’s entirely possible.’

*

The day was sheer madness. Making arrangements in secret, trusting that Shane knew what he was doing, keeping Addie under control, and her own worry at bay. Writing the letter was even worse: it was the only plausible excuse Jenn had for leaving Elita, the only way her absence would be missed by no one.

How would Bella receive it? Her attitude had softened a little over the last few months, to the point where Jenn actually felt comfortable talking to her, asking questions. But would she go along with this lie? Would she agree to pretend that Jenn was visiting Maitland?

I beg to you trust me in this matter. I cannot explain here, but you must keep this secret even from Father, and I promise I will answer all your questions. Lives depend on your faith. Please, do not fail me.

It would have to do. Jenn didn’t have the time to go all the way north to Bella and explain in person. Addie would take the letter and tell Bella the details Jenn couldn’t risk being written down.

They left in the morning with Keagan, heading north. The moment they were over the ridge, Addie rode on alone towards Maitland. Jenn took Keagan down through the forest, riding slowly. Shane met them by the river with the horses and together they wound their way towards Markallen’s farm, taking the most circuitous route Shane could manage. They were not stopped by any patrols, but they saw many. By dusk, Jenn’s nerves were raw. Shane remained completely calm and Keagan said hardly a word.

Finally, the farm emerged from the darkness and Markallen’s appearance at the door signalled all was well.

It seemed the gods were listening to prayers that night.
They travelled in silence until the first glow of dawn peeked over the horizon. They saw no patrols, no one. As a light rain began to fall, they made camp in a narrow gully. Exhausted, the children settled down to sleep immediately. Keagan stood first watch, but Jenn dared not trust to that alone. She stood at the head of the gully, her senses stretching as far as possible. She could detect nothing unusual, but felt no comfort. If only she were a better Seeker.

‘You are brave, my lady.’

Jenn turned at the sudden intrusion as Kandar climbed the steep slope to join her. ‘There are few folk in this country who would risk so much for the Queen.’

‘You did.’

Kandar shrugged and pulled his cloak around his shoulders. The nights were getting much colder now. ‘I’m a soldier, accustomed to taking risks. It’s easy for me to lay down my life for what I believe in.’

‘Your cousin will kill you if he finds you. Your death will be particularly horrible.’

At this, Kandar smiled. ‘Every death is horrible. And besides, he won’t find me. Not now.’

He sounded so sure it made Jenn quake. Where did his faith come from? He had turned his back on his own flesh and blood, his own people, in order to help a Queen who would never love him in return. Jenn had seen the way Kandar looked at Rosalind, his attention, the very way he carried himself when she was near. And yet, it appeared he expected nothing from the Queen – except to help her.

‘Will you tell me why?’ Jenn murmured, her gaze drifting down to the bodies close to the fire. The morning sun was blanked out by a caravan of clouds and the rain was getting heavier every moment. ‘Why did she run away?’

Jenn glanced at him, but he only shook his head. ‘You’ll have to ask the Queen yourself. I cannot speak for her. I think she’ll tell you if you ask.’

‘Selar will stop at nothing to get his son back.’

Kandar smiled a little. ‘And we will stop at nothing to prevent him.’ He turned away then and took the path back down the gully.

Blind faith. All of it. Simple, blank, trusting, deep-welled faith. Where did it come from? And not just Kandar. It was Rosalind, too. And Shane and all the others. Finnlay and Martha. Patric. Where did it end? Why were they all so certain she knew what she was doing? Didn’t they realize that she was just reacting to a need? There was no courage involved – and certainly no foresight. Just a rather childlike inability to say no when faced with a crisis.

Yes, Jacob was right in a way. She didn’t really understand danger. At least, not until something went wrong.

*

‘Look out!’ Keagan cried above the black storm. Jenn jumped out of the path of the rearing horse and slipped in the mud. She came crashing down on her ankle, but the slope was too much. She couldn’t stop herself. With her hands scrambling for something to hold on, she began to slide. It was too dark. She couldn’t see the bottom of the ravine. Down and down she went, mud slithering beneath her until she landed with a splash at the bottom. Dead heather and rotting wood caught on her dress as she struggled to stand.

Someone landed beside her, hands reaching out immediately. ‘My lady! Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ Jenn gasped as she stood on her twisted ankle. ‘The others?’

‘Safe at the top,’ Shane replied.

‘But the patrol? Are they getting closer? Did they see us?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, you should know!’ Jenn shouted, angry with herself more than him. ‘Just be quiet a minute.’

The wind and rain lashed around them as the ferocious storm whipped itself up. Thunder bellowed above, sending flashes across the sky. Jenn tried to concentrate, to focus her senses and send them out, but it was impossible. There was too much chaos, too much noise.

Why wouldn’t it work? Hadn’t she kept them hidden from patrols for the last week with the aid of a simple Mask? Hadn’t she brought a bridge back together in such conditions – and long before she’d even learned how to use her powers?

Damn it!

She reached out to Shane. He took her hand and she closed her eyes again. Focus. Nothing but focus. Forget the storm and focus. Reach out. Sense . . . yes, the others above. Looking down. Yes, that’s it. Now further . . .

If she were a better Seeker, she’d know, she’d be able to tell if the patrol was on its way up the hill. But there was nothing. Just the storm-tortured moor and the evil sky. Did that mean the patrol had gone?

‘I can’t do any more,’ Jenn breathed, opening her eyes. ‘If they find us we’ll just have to fight. Come on.’

They had to search for another way up, and for the last stretch, Shane had to almost carry her, her ankle was so bad. He put her on her horse, then led them on foot until they reached the crest of the hill. Suddenly the wind blasted them from the south, as though it would force them back to Marsay. The storm had followed them from the north, pestering their sleep during the day and haunting this black night.

‘We can’t go any further like this!’ Jenn shouted, leaning down so Shane could hear her. The others were scattered behind, huddled down over the horses. Kandar shielded the Princess beneath his cloak; Keagan had the boy. Hugh’s injuries were not healing and Galiena had developed a fever from too many damp forest beds, too many nights spent travelling. Samah had nursed her, but had to stop when her own fever developed. She was older, stronger, but she’d also fallen from her horse two days before and her right arm was broken. They would have to stop and rest before fatigue and illness beat the patrol’s mortal danger.

Why had Jenn thought she could do this? Every day when they’d rested, she’d been kept half-awake by a need to be ready to set up a Mask should anyone come near them. Twice they’d taken shelter in remote abandoned huts and she’d found a few hours of undisturbed slumber as Shane, Keagan and Kandar took turns at keeping watch. But every night was like this one, bleak and icy and needled with dangers. She had to Seek for hours on end, changing their path when she picked up even the faintest hint of a pale
human aura – an effort almost beyond her fragile Seeking abilities.

And so far they’d been lucky. Any more nights like tonight and they could be lost.

‘There’s some shelter over there, my lady,’ Shane bellowed over the storm. ‘That wood – a patch of darkness. Do you see it?’

‘Yes, just. It won’t be dry, but we’ll be out of this wind. Let’s go.’

*

Rosalind sat quietly with her arms around Galiena and watched the purposeful activity going on in front of her. After the raging anger of last night’s storm, this peace was welcome, if disconcerting. Keagan stood in the centre of the clearing and held the horse’s head while Shane brushed it down and placed a cleaned saddle on its back. Each movement was crisp, familiar, precise.

Beyond the tiny clearing, the wood disappeared into grey-ness, making the trees nothing more than ghostly shapes in the morning’s fog. Kenrick was poking a stick into the fire and jumping back. He laughed and looked to Rosalind for approval. She smiled and nodded and he picked up another stick. Galiena slept on, her breathing now little more now than a laboured rasp.

Kandar had built a shelter using some young saplings and a length of rope from the saddlebags. In its shadow lay Hugh, his chaotic rambling audible to everyone. Samah was trying to feed him while Kandar held his head. Jennifer stood at Hugh’s feet, murmuring something. With a nod, Kandar stood and together they came back to Rosalind.

‘I’m afraid we have no choice, Your Grace,’ Jennifer began, picking up her cloak from the forest floor. ‘Either we leave Hugh here to die, your daughter with him, or we find some help. As far as I can tell from Kandar’s map, we covered just a few leagues last night, and the weather will only get worse now. We cannot continue on like this. If we try, we’ll be found for sure.’

Rosalind took a deep breath. ‘I would rather die here in this wood than risk involving any more in my folly. You and
your men should leave us and go home. You’ve risked too much already.’

Jennifer sighed with exasperation. ‘We’re not beaten yet. We can get help. If we can find somewhere safe to rest for a few days, somewhere where we’ll not be discovered, we can continue on.’

‘But do you know anybody you dare trust?’

‘Trust?’ Jennifer frowned at that and swirled her cloak over her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure I know what that means. On the other hand, you’d be surprised at the number of people in this country who’d be willing to help you. I’ll go alone. I’ll be asking directions and I can travel faster on my own. In case you need to fight, Shane and Keagan would be better helping you than me. If I don’t return by sunset, assume the worst. Head for that priory we saw yesterday and ask for sanctuary. That’s your best hope.’

As Jennifer turned for the horse, Rosalind handed Galiena to Kandar and followed after her. She took Jennifer’s hand and spoke quietly. ‘And if you return and find we’re gone — or dead – remember what I told you of the King’s plans. Tell your father. He’ll know what to do. I’ve done all I can to stop Selar; the rest is up to you.’

She said nothing more as Jennifer climbed on to the horse. Shane handed up the reins, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘Be careful, my lady.’

Jennifer nodded, then pulled the horse aside. She disappeared into the forest and soon all sound of her was gone.

‘Don’t worry, Shane,’ Rosalind murmured into the silence. ‘She will return. Your mistress is a lady of immense courage and strength. If she were a man, my husband would have much to fear.’

Shane met her gaze steadily for a long time. Then he nodded. ‘The King has already been struck down by one lady of courage. Two would be the ending of him. I’ll gather some more firewood and put some breakfast together. With a little luck, I may even catch a rabbit we can dine on this evening.’

So much pain! In his head, in his stomach. He kept retching, coughing and choking, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t lift his head, or even turn it. He was so thirsty. His lips were cracked and dry. He tasted blood. His eyes were open, but all he could see were some vague shadows on the vaulted ceiling, dark and ominous.

How long had he been lying here? Hours? Weeks? It was impossible to guess. There was nothing he could use to gauge the time. It never got any colder or darker – or any lighter. There were just the same shadows above him – and the unceasing pain.