Angelaeon Circle 2 - Eye of the Sword (19 page)

Long before Dio, Haden, and Resarian had taken him to Ledge Rock, he had seen the veil of Avellan. In Melaia’s book. On the page with lines that rippled like a stream. Melaia had said the page showed what the harp saw.

“Pym!” he said. “The Oracle
did
answer my question. One of the harps is at Ledge Rock!”

Pym answered with a snore.

Trevin plopped back into his thick mat. Where exactly was the harp? Atop the hill? In a cave?

He lay awake for a long time, tossing around possibilities. When at last he fell asleep, his terror-dream returned. This time when the figure lunged at him, Trevin struck it with a gleaming sword, and his attacker shattered into thousands of tiny shards that blew away on the wind. Even so, Trevin awoke panting, sweating, and trying to identify the figure who haunted his dreams. Was it Rejius?

Or could it possibly be Arelin?

Court attendants arrived the next morning to escort Trevin to the baths. Pym was already there, soaking and grinning as a servant scrubbed his back.

“I thought you didn’t like soap,” said Trevin.

“They said they’ll rub me in oil after so I don’t get the itches.” Pym spluttered as water cascaded over his head.

Trevin immersed himself in the warm pool beside Pym. “I think I know where to look for something we’re seeking.”

“Harps or comains?”

Trevin glanced at the servants. “You’ll see. It’s a short ride.”

“I doubt we can go today,” said Pym. “You’re to meet with the king and queen.”

Trevin’s shoulders slumped and were promptly sudsed. Then he was rinsed,
rubbed down, oiled, and given another new tunic. Thinking of the beardless image in the sword, Trevin asked for a shave.

While Pym went to the stables to watch the horsemen work with the wild ones, a servant escorted Trevin to King Kedemeth and Queen Ambria, who strolled arm in arm along the balcony that encircled the tower housing the royal quarters. A guard was stationed at each door, and the warrior woman Trevin had seen in the council chamber trailed them. He sensed her sunset-red aura.

King Kedemeth motioned for Trevin to join them, so he paced silently behind the king and queen, his back prickling at the sound of the warrior woman’s footsteps and the thought of the dagger in her belt.

Trevin turned his attention to the city spread around the palace. But the black-draped awnings and window dressings, the gray- and black-robed townsfolk, and the overcast day itself brought memories of Resarian’s death. He bowed his head. Perhaps he should never have left Redcliff.

King Kedemeth cleared his throat. “You told me why Resarian followed you to the canyon,” he said over his shoulder, “but you’ve not told me why
you
were there.”

Trevin gazed south toward Redcliff. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time,” said Queen Ambria.

“Officially we are in mourning for a fortnight more,” said the king. “We’re not expected to deal with any but the most urgent matters of state.”

“In that case,” said Trevin, “I’ll begin with a princess.”

King Kedemeth grinned. “The perfect place to begin.”

Trevin gave him a half smile, conscious of the harp pendant under his tunic. He told them that Melaia had been discovered as the king’s lost daughter. Briefly he described Lord Rejius’s attempted coup and the missing comains.

But the king and queen had heard it all before. For them the news was the Dregmoorian peace offer, King Laetham’s desire for allies, and his wish for a word from the Oracle.

Queen Ambria halted and turned to Trevin, staring at him with a puzzled look. “The Oracle?” she murmured. “Arelin, the Oracle led you astray.”

King Kedemeth touched her arm. “Ambria, this is Arelin’s
son
.”

Trevin rubbed his clean-shaven chin. Did he look that much like his father? Maybe he should have kept his beard.

The queen’s face paled, and her hand fluttered to her forehead. “Of course. That’s what I meant. Quite.”

The king patted her arm. “I’ve never been to Windsweep, Main Trevin, but I’m told the Oracle can be frustratingly cryptic, if he speaks at all. Did you hear anything?”

“I did, sire. I ventured into the canyon at the bidding of the Oracle. I believe I’m also to visit Ledge Rock.”

“A half-day’s travel from here,” said King Kedemeth.

“Is it safe?” asked the queen.

“Ambria,” the king chided. He linked his arm in hers and led her around the balcony.

As Trevin followed their slow stroll, he gazed at the horizon, itching to be on his way. Could he truly be this close to finding another harp? “I’d like to explore Ledge Rock this afternoon,” he said.

“If you left for Ledge Rock now, you wouldn’t arrive before nightfall,” said the king. “Besides, I hoped you would join me when I question Main Catellus this afternoon.”

Trevin rubbed his brow, frustrated. He was so close to completing one of his tasks. Cell bars no longer held him back, yet he was still being detained. “But I must—”

“You understand, don’t you?” Queen Ambria’s hand fluttered to her head. “It’s simply not safe, Arelin. We cannot allow you to leave.”

revin matched King Kedemeth’s stride as they headed toward the keep, two guards flanking them.

The king looked sideways at Trevin. “I apologize for Ambria. She isn’t herself. I’m afraid she’s overwhelmed by the death of Resarian and the shock of discovering Arelin’s son.”

“I heard Arelin was like a brother to her,” said Trevin. “His loss must have been a great blow. No doubt she’s wrestling with painful memories.”

The king motioned his bodyguards to fall back, then spoke quietly. “Arelin was the closest friend of Ambria’s older brother. I feel certain Ambria would have married Arelin if her family hadn’t pledged her to me. She has never told me such, mind you, but I’m sure of it. I tell you this only to explain why her mind wavers.”

Trevin’s mind snagged on a prickly thought: for all he knew,
she
might be his mother. “Is she—” Trevin checked himself. He wanted assurance, but the question was far too personal.

The king nodded his understanding. “She has always been faithful to me. No doubt about that. With a little rest she’ll think clearly once more. She’s a brilliant woman, you know.”

“She sets the standard too high for me,” said Trevin. “I’ll never attain Arelin’s stature.”

“Don’t limit yourself. It’s not beyond reason to think you’ll one day be Arelin’s equal.”

Trevin didn’t want to argue the point, but he was only Nephili. He would never be an angel like Arelin.

The king paused at the door of the keep and placed a hand on Trevin’s shoulder. “I grant you the freedom to come and go as you please, but I hope you will honor us by completing the time of mourning here in Eldarra.”

“Of course.” Trevin felt ashamed that he hadn’t thought of it himself. It was the least he could do to honor Resarian, even though he longed to be on his way.

“But you may certainly visit Ledge Rock whenever you wish,” the king said. “I’ll see to it that Ambria doesn’t stop you.”

“In that case I’d like to go first thing in the morning.”

“A good time. I’ve asked the doctor to give Ambria a potion to help her rest at night. She’ll be sleeping soundly when you leave.”

Main Catellus bowed to the floor when Trevin and King Kedemeth entered his cell with two guards.

“Rise,” said the king. “We want some answers, and you’re best advised to make them truthful.”

Catellus stood, his eyes flitting from the king to Trevin. “Telling the truth will be one burden lifted.” He hung his head. “But I’ve another weight that will only grow heavier with the truth, sire.”

“Which is?” the king snapped.

“I fear for my son.”

“What does your son have to do with this?” asked the king.

“He was my armsman. Marco. He’s little more than a boy.”

“Where is he?” asked Trevin.

“I don’t know.” Catellus’s eyes moistened. “I joined Varic only to save Marco. If Varic finds out I crossed him, he’ll bury the boy alive.”

Trevin clenched his jaw, hoping Varic hadn’t sent the boy into the Dregmoors with Hesel.

“How long have you cowed to the Dregmoorian’s threats?” asked the king.

“Almost two years. Varic rode into the mountains to hunt wolves and ‘capture images’ as he put it. He brought rolls of papyrus, inks, charcoal. He’s good with sketches, and he does amazing work with silver nets. Marco was fascinated watching him.”

“I’ve seen some of his work,” said Trevin, remembering with disgust the flower pressed to Melaia’s chair and the flattened pommel of his sword.

Catellus wrung his hands. “I never felt at ease with Varic, but mountain men can be strange, so I shrugged it off. Now that I look back on it, I see we never got to know him well, while he learned plenty from us. When Marco bragged about me being a comain of Camrithia, Varic asked for tales about the comains. I told him, naturally, spinning stories before the fire at night.”

“What did you tell?” asked Trevin.

“Names. The regions where the comains worked. The weapons they were skilled in. That sort of thing. All as a tale, but a tale told true. Marco loved hearing valiant stories.”

“As did Resarian.” King Kedemeth pressed the bridge of his nose.

Catellus shot a pleading look at Trevin. “After a season two other men showed up. Friends of Varic.”

“Hesel and Fornian?” asked Trevin.

Catellus looked surprised. “You know them?”

“Unfortunately.” Trevin nodded for Catellus to continue.

“All three pressed me to join them in a villainous scheme. They tried to bribe me with a drink they call gash, saying it would make me live forever. I laughed in their faces. Then they offered me jewels, the likes of which I’d never seen.”

“I’ve seen those too,” said Trevin. King Laetham no doubt still wore his ruby ring. He wondered if Melaia wore her medallion.

“I refused the jewels,” said Catellus. “Being a mountain man, what would I do with gems? Their friendly mood changed then. They threatened to force gash down Marco’s throat until he choked. They would have done it too. Had the boy pinned down. What could I do?” Catellus’s hand shook as he rubbed his forehead.

“What did they want from you?” asked King Kedemeth.

“Treason, that’s what. I see now I unwittingly opened myself to the offer. Varic was always bragging about his skills and his wit. One day I’d had enough of it, so I did some bragging myself. I showed him the scroll King Laetham signed, appointing me comain. I boasted that Marco learned to write by studying the scroll and had the boy show Varic how he could copy the king’s signature so close it looked like the king’s own hand.” Catellus wiped his eyes. “My bragging cost me my boy.”

Trevin stepped closer, wishing Pym could hear Catellus’s story. “Go on,” he said.

“Varic and his friends wrote a summons to each comain,” said Catellus, “and they forced Marco to sign the messages in King Laetham’s handwriting. Then they took Marco to deliver the scrolls.”

“What did the messages say?” asked King Kedemeth.

“It was the same on each scroll,” said Catellus. “A call for the comains to come straight to Qanreef. Varic and Fornian rode with Marco to make sure he delivered the scrolls; Hesel stayed behind to make sure I stayed quiet. Before they left, I gave Marco my shield and dagger, hoping he’d bide his time and make a sure escape.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “Varic and Fornian returned without my son.”