Voice Of The Demon (Book 2) (36 page)

Micah glanced up, but Robert’s face was in darkness, deliberately so. In response, Micah said, ‘I will, my lord. I promise.’

‘Good.’ Robert turned his head slightly and a glint of early moonlight caught his eyes. ‘She’s coming.’

Micah mounted his horse and turned to face the tunnel. A moment later, Jenn emerged, extinguishing her light. She paused long enough to say goodbye to Patric and give him a brief hug. Then, ignoring Robert’s dark presence, she strode directly to her horse. She swung up into the saddle, sat tall and defiant, and then turned her gaze on Robert.

Neither of them said a word. There was no movement, no expression. No goodbyes – nothing. There was just the silence, punctuated only by the restlessness of the horses, the breeze in the gully. A film of cloud brushed over the moon and was gone, bringing them back into that pale blue glow, cold and empty.

Slowly Robert reached up and touched the neck of Jenn’s horse. Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the tunnel, disappearing inside with not even a hand raised in farewell.

Jenn was the first to move. She kicked her horse and started up the side of the ravine. Shane and Keagan followed close behind while Micah brought up the rear. Reaching the top, they turned north and headed out into the bleak shadows of open moorland.

‘When you get back, Micah,’ Jenn spoke suddenly, drawing her horse alongside his, ‘I wonder if you would do something for me. It might be difficult. It all depends on how he’ll take it.’

‘Of course. I’ll try. What is it?’

‘Would you thank your father for me. He put a lot of trust in a complete stranger the other night. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d said no.’

Micah glanced at her, but only her voice gave anything away. ‘I’d love to know how you convinced him to come in the first place.’

‘That was simple. I told him who I was. I suppose he assumed that I wouldn’t be there asking for help if it wasn’t really important.’

Micah nodded. ‘He has a great respect for you. Your father stood firm against Selar, you see. Pledged him no oath of allegiance. Such things are very important to my father.’

‘Oh?’ Jenn murmured. ‘Then I suppose you’d better not tell him that I think Robert was entirely right doing what he did. We wouldn’t want to shatter his illusions now, would we?’

*

The land unfolded like parchment before them, brown at first, then glowing green as they reached Elita. Even the weather had been kind, with neither the nights nor the days too cold to bear. A little rain on the second day had them sheltering in a tavern. That’s where Micah had asked her about life at Elita. Sitting there opposite him, with his sparkling, mischievous eyes following her every statement, it was impossible not to reply. She told him all about the hospice, Brother Benedict – even how she’d come across Rosalind. It was good to talk to him again freely, without having to watch every word she said. What was even better was how Micah, Keagan and Shane got on. Almost complete opposites in character, Micah and Shane seemed to deliberately bait each other, making Keagan either grumble or laugh in response. It was this alone which made the journey bearable. With them talking together, Jenn could sit back and watch, listen or pay no attention. They didn’t require anything of her, nor demand any kind of response. Only Micah watched her from time to time.

Then, as a full moon broached the edge of dusk one day, they arrived at the ridge overlooking Elita. It was time for Micah to turn back.

‘You won’t go running off the moment I leave, will you?’ Micah asked slyly.

‘And where would I run to?’ Jenn replied with a nod at Shane and Keagan. ‘With these two trailing me every step of the way.’

Then he was riding back down the ridge, his hand raised
in farewell, his laughter floating on the wind, and once again she felt alone.

The castle guard was alert to their arrival. The gate was opened and Neil was waiting in the courtyard. Jenn was barely off her horse before he took her to one side. ‘Welcome home, my lady. Your father awaits you in his study.’

He said nothing more, but a swell of uneasiness rolled in her stomach. She wanted to go up and wash first, change her travelling dress before she saw Jacob, but those few words from Neil stopped her. If Jacob was waiting, she had to go and see him.

He was alone, sitting in his customary chair by the fireplace. A letter lay on his lap, the wax seal hanging over his knee. He didn’t look up when she entered.

‘Close the door.’

Jenn did as she was told and moved closer to him. Her hands were cold and she wanted to get close to the fire, but didn’t dare.

‘I cannot tell you how disappointed I am in you. I cannot begin to express how much you’ve hurt me.’ Still Jacob didn’t look at her. ‘I took you back into this house, despite your background, hoping – believing – that you, born a Ross, would still be able to learn, to be schooled to take your place. Instead you’ve brought nothing but shame and dishonour down on us.’

Jenn’s stomach went cold and her hands began to shake. She wanted to say something, but knew that the moment she opened her mouth, Jacob’s icy tone would turn to fury.

Now, in the silence, he lifted his head and his eyes were like steel. ‘Where have you been?’

Still, Jenn could say nothing and Jacob continued, ‘I sent you a letter to Maitland. I wrote to remind you to be home in time for your anniversary celebrations. But you weren’t there, never had been. You’ve seen Dunlorn, haven’t you? Even after you promised you would never see him again. But it was just a lie, wasn’t it?’

Jenn broke at this. She sank to her knees, her hands reaching out to him. ‘Father, please listen to me. You don’t understand.’

‘Listen while you fabricate more things for me to believe? I had hoped Dunlorn had some honour left!’

Jenn wanted to run – not only from this room, but from everything. Everyone. But she couldn’t. Instead, she gripped her trembling hands together and tried to stop her voice from breaking.

‘Father, I didn’t intend to lie to you, but it all happened so quickly and Robert had nothing to do with my going . . .’

‘You really expect me to believe that!’ Jacob spat. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about the traitor!’

‘But you must, Father,’ Jenn whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat, ‘if I’m to tell you the truth.’

And then it came out. Everything she’d not wanted to tell him, not wanted to involve him with. From the first moment she’d walked into Markallen’s farm to the night she’d left Dunlorn. Deliberately, she told him how Robert had reacted at seeing her, how he had insisted she leave the next night, how he had told her off for getting involved in the first place. And then the rest came out, too. Everything except the sorcery. Everything Rosalind had told her. Selar’s treatment of her, the beating, the rape – and his plans for war. Once she began to speak, the gods themselves couldn’t have stopped her. When she finally came to an end she sank back on her heels, exhausted.

‘Please don’t blame Addie or Shane or Keagan. Punish me, by all means, but I promise you, they were just trying to look after me.’ Jenn hung her head, unable to look at Jacob, afraid of what she would see.

‘You . . . thought fit to help the Queen in such dire straits – and didn’t stop to tell me?’ Jacob murmured, horrified. ‘You risked your life so that …

He broke off and looked away. ‘In Serin’s name, Jennifer! Why? Couldn’t you trust me? Did you think I wouldn’t help? That I might turn the Queen over to the patrols?’

‘No, Father,’ Jenn looked up, her heart still beating wildly in her breast. ‘But this way, if I was caught, nobody could blame you. Everyone knows I’m disobedient, unruly. They could all just blame it on my background. Both you and
Bella could be safe this way. If you knew nothing about it, then they could hold nothing against you.’

‘And you sought to protect me? Your own father? By lying and putting your own life at risk?’ Jacob leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. ‘Has it not occurred to you that protecting you is
my
job?’

‘I’m sorry, Father,’ Jenn sank back to the floor as he let go her hand.

‘Dunlorn was right, you are a fool!’ Jacob grunted after a moment. ‘And no, I won’t dismiss your cohorts. I know only too well how you wrap people around your fingers, twisting them to do your bidding. And once again, you twist me around. For all I despise your methods, I cannot help but admire your courage in helping the Queen. And yes,’ he added grudgingly, ‘I did underestimate Dunlorn. That he’s helped Rosalind escape is a mark in his favour. After so long, one such mark is welcome – though hardly enough to undo the old damage. It seems he does have some honour left. Enough to help a Queen in distress. A pity he didn’t do something long before now to ease her distress, before she felt a need to run away!’

Jacob turned back to Jenn and waited for her to look up at him. He was frowning and there were deep lines around his mouth. ‘But you, Jennifer? For all that I love you, I cannot trust you. You lied to me. It’s my own fault. I should have taken a closer hand in your education. I should have kept a closer guard to stop you being abducted in the first place! But I can no longer accept your wilfulness. You’ll not leave the castle without my express permission – and then, only to go into the village. You will have nothing more to do with Brother Benedict. Shane can carry on your work there. That’s his punishment. Beyond that?’

Jacob broke off here, his eyes going to the letter forgotten on his lap. ‘Beyond that, your deceit will soon be somebody else’s problem. The King, desperate to head off any trouble Rosalind’s defection could cause, has decreed your marriage. In two weeks, Selar will bring your intended here – with a weighty guard. He will expect to find you willing and prepared to make your vows.’

With a gasp, Jenn scrambled to her feet. ‘But, two weeks?’

Almost unwillingly, Jacob softened slightly. ‘Yes. Just two weeks. Hardly enough time to make a wedding gown. But it’s the King’s order and I’m in no position to defy him.’ He paused and the hard lines left his face. His hand reached out to her, but didn’t touch her. ‘We knew this would happen sooner or later. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.’

Then it really was all over. All the freedom, all the adventure, all the danger. Everything. In two weeks she would be married and her life would change completely again.

‘Does . . .’ Jenn swallowed and began again. ‘Does the letter say who I’m to marry?’

Jacob nodded, his lips pursing in displeasure. ‘No lowborn oaf for you, my dear, only a high-born one. Tiege Eachern, Duke of Ayr. Selar’s cousin. A bloodthirsty warrior of no grace, little imagination and even smaller intelligence. All in all, Jennifer, you would have been better off taking the veil.’

Jenn nodded slowly, her hands still shaking. Faltering, she said, ‘I’ll be ready, Father. I promise you will not be ashamed of me again.’

‘No,’ Jacob replied, his voice with an edge she’d not heard before. ‘No – and to prove it to everyone else, I will make sure your wedding is the finest in the history of our House. I will invite everyone I know to witness the sacrifice Selar demands. This will not be done quietly and cowardly. If I can do nothing else for you, I will do that alone.’

Dropping her head, Jenn backed away murmuring something about washing and getting some rest. She couldn’t stand there any longer. She left the study and walked back along the short passage to the hall. There were people there, working, lighting candles. They called out a welcome to her, but she couldn’t answer. Instead, her feet took her to the staircase and she began to climb. At the top, she turned right and walked down the empty corridor to her room. She opened the door to find it just as she’d left it two weeks
before. There was even a fire burning in the hearth and bread and cheese on the table.

Jenn closed the door, turned the key in the lock and stumbled over to the table. She stared down at the plate, the flask of mead, the chunk of thick yellow cheese. Then she swept the whole lot off the table. As it went crashing to the floor, she stuck her hands beneath the table and with a heave, upturned it. Gasping for air, she staggered to the bed, tore off the blankets and heaved them around the room. Everything she touched she knocked aside with all the anger, frustration and venom she’d held inside for so long. Then, when the whole room was a complete wreck, she fell to the floor, crying uncontrollably. She curled up into a ball in the corner, her eyes shut tight, her throat hurting, her chest heaving.

Alone, Jenn sobbed in her corner, cradled the pain and wished that it would all go away.

*

A war.

Selar was going to start a war with Mayenne. He was going to take his own brother’s crown. He was going to use Lusaran troops to steal something that had never been his in the first place. That’s what this had all been about. The raiders, the Church – Bishop McCauly, the Guilde – all of it. All so Selar could wage a war to satisfy his own thirst for revenge. For blood.

Jacob pushed his chair closer to the window. The little wheels knocked against the stone wall, but he took no notice. Instead, he pushed the window open and rested his elbows on the sill. Outside, the dawn was just breaking, clear and crisp, all full of new hope and promise.

But in reality, the only promise was war – and the only hope?

There was one. Slim, pale, but just as clear as the dawn. A hope germinated by a Queen’s defiance, a child’s abduction and a nation on the edge of war.

Jacob sighed and turned his chair around until he could face his desk. He pulled against the cak until his useless legs were stuck beneath it and he could write comfortably. Feeling
the warmth of the morning sun on his back, he pulled forth a sheet of paper, dipped his pen in the ink and began to write the letter. The first of many – but without doubt, the most important.

Finnlay started awake in a cold sweat. For a moment he couldn’t remember where he was. His heart was racing and the only thing that filled his mind was an echo of the dream – a nightmare.

‘Are you all right?’ Martha peered over him, her face lit in profile by soft candlelight. Behind her was the familiar grey stone of a Goleth cave and an open doorway where Arlie waited anxiously.