Betrayals (8 page)

The creeping did prove itself useful, though. I’d decided against using the front door unless I absolutely had to, so I was in the midst of searching for a side door when I came across two servants. They sat in a small room drinking tea, looking completely bored as they waited for something. The bell arrangements on the far wall suggested what they were waiting for: a summons from the lord of the house, I tiptoed past the partially open door and then hurried my search, not knowing whether they were simply on duty for the entire night—or awaiting a definite summons. If Lanir was expected to ring for them, how long would it be before they went to investigate his continued silence …?

It was a lucky thing that I found the door I sought just around the next curve of that dimly lit back hall. If I hadn’t I would have certainly retraced my steps to the front door, taking the chance that there would be a servant on duty near it. I’d heard that people with really big houses had servants assigned to front-door duty at night as well as during the day, just in case an emergency of some sort arose. I now needed more than ever to be out of that house, and the thought of being stopped brought me close to losing control.

The small side door had both a slide bolt and a key lock, making me glad that I’d taken Lanir’s keys. It took much too long to get the door open—almost a full minute—but I still forced myself to take the time to relock it once I stood outside. If Lanir was discovered before I left the grounds, the search for me might be confined to the house if all doors were found to be still locked.

That line of logic wasn’t a very strong one, but I clung to the hope of it as I made my way along the footpath which led away from that side door. It was very dark out and rather chilly in the lacy gown I still wore, but a bit of moonlight was available to help me move carefully along the footpath. Happily no one had added gravel to make it look better— and be more treacherous and noisy, footing-wise—but I still couldn’t move as fast as I wanted to. Falling and twisting an ankle—or worse—would have been the end of everything, so I simply had to go rather slowly. Leaving the vicinity of the house didn’t bring me that much closer to a main road or street. The footpath paralleled a long drive ranging off into the darkness, a drive which seemed to go on forever. I trudged along the footpath, wishing I could walk the hard-packed earth of the drive instead, but that would have made me much too visible. Being in that gown was bad enough, considering the tiny sequins sewn all over both the skirt and bodice. If lamps were brought close the sequins would certainly gleam the way they were meant to do, making me completely visible. I needed to be able to hide behind a large tree, and trees were closer to the footpath than to the drive. Walking along like that gave me far too much time to think, as the thought uppermost in my mind was how far I would have to go before I would be able to find a coach or carriage. Many public stables had carriages for hire, but how many of them would be open at that time of night? And when I finally did reach the main road, which way should I go? Turning right when the proper direction was left could have me walking for the rest of the night without finding what I needed—

I stopped dead as my latest glance up from watching where I put my feet showed me something other than empty woods. A large, dark shadow stood about thirty feet ahead, motionless at the side of the drive. The outline of the shadow suggested that it was a coach, and once I’d noticed that I could also hear the faint jingle of horses in harness. I’d been wishing rather fervently for a coach, but not for a moment did I believe that some beneficial superbeing had heard my wish and granted it.

Fear tried to wrap its hands around my throat and middle, but anger rose too swiftly to let that happen. I hadn’t come through everything just to walk into the waiting hands of another enemy, not when my touch on the power was as firm and sure as ever. Lank hadn’t had to face my flames, but whoever lay in wait to trap me certainly wouldn’t be that fortunate. I hadn’t even produced a small fire to light my way along the footpath, just to be certain that I had enough strength in case of something like this….

I was actually half a thought away from kindling a fire that would consume the coach almost instantly, when I noticed the human figure which had appeared beside the vehicle. The figure was engaged in pacing back and forth along the drive, and even more importantly it was female. Some woman waited there, and one who was certainly not tall enough to be either Eltrina Razas or my mother. A small woman, then, and one whose fingers moved nervously about each other….

Curiosity took me silently nearer, but I had to close half the distance between us before I finally recognized the woman. Shock touched me briefly along with confusion, but there was only one way to find out what was going on. I left the footpath and crossed to the drive, and when I reached it I called softly, “Naran!”

Naran Whist, Rion’s ladylove, whirled around in what seemed to be fright. Her case of nerves was apparently twice or three times worse than mine, and when she saw me she raised her skins and actually ran to meet me.

“Oh, Tamrissa, I knew you would escape from there!” she sobbed, throwing her arms around me. “I did know it, but when hour after hour passed and you didn’t appear… I was nearly convinced that I’d missed you, and that made me frantic.”

“Well, now I’m here so everything’s all right,” I soothed her, returning her hug. It felt so strange, me soothing someone else’s fright… “But how did you find me? Even I don’t know where I am.”

“I can’t explain how I found you, at least not yet,” she said, releasing her hold on me as she visibly regained control of herself. “Among other things, we simply don’t have the time. I also know where Rion and Valiant are, but they can’t escape without help. They’re still under the influence of a horrible drug that affects both their talent and their bodies. You’re the only one who has gotten free, so you’re the one who has to help them.”

“Are you saying someone made me designated hero when I wasn’t looking?” I asked, a bit overwhelmed by the thought that two big, strong men needed my help. “Well, I’d already decided to find the others… But what about Jovvi and Lorand? If you found the rest of us …”

“I haven’t been able to locate them yet,” she replied with a headshake, her pretty face looking drawn in the faint moonlight. “I don’t know why I haven’t been able to because they’re definitely still alive, but—Let’s get into the coach, and I’ll explain where Rion and Valiant are.”

“Where did you get a coach?” I asked as I moved toward the vehicle with her. “And one that has a driver,” I added as I saw the man on the box turn to glance at us. “Have you paid him enough to keep him quiet? When they begin to look for me, they may offer a reward for information.”

“He’ll be well paid, but he doesn’t really need to be,” Naran responded as she opened the coach door and gathered her skirts before beginning to climb in. “He’s the driver of a very good friend of mine, and neither of them would give a noble the right time of day even for gold. Don’t most of the people you know feel like that?”

“Before becoming a member of our group, the only people I’d ever heard talking about nobles were merchants like my father,” I replied, ignoring the trouble my skirts tried to give as I followed her into the coach. “My father’s associates always waxed really enthusiastic when it came to the nobility, but I don’t know if that was because of all the gold they made dealing with them, or because they were afraid to say anything negative. Nobles will pay you if you tell them about people who say things against the nobility, you know.”

“Yes, everyone knows that,” Naran responded with a sigh, still settling herself just as I was doing. “But everyone also knows the ones who would go after that dirty silver, so nothing is ever said in front of them. Ah, we’ve begun to move. Next stop—Rion’s mother’s house.”

“Do you mean she actually managed to get him back?” I asked with surprise, then waved away the foolish question. “No, forget I said that. The real surprise would be if she hadn’t gotten him back. Poor Rion. He must be absolutely frantic.”

“That’s why we’re going for him first,” she said, heavy worry now clear in her voice. “If he thinks he has no way to escape her, he might well do something desperate. Valiant won’t be allowed to do something desperate, not while that woman still wants to make use of him.”

“That woman,” I echoed, staring at Naran through the darkness. “You’re not talking about Eltrina Razas, are you?”

“Who else?” Naran asked with a sound of scorn. “Rion told me all about her, including the fact that she usually stared at Valiant behind her hand, so to speak, whenever she came to the house. He’s unlikely to be enjoying himself as her captive, but he shouldn’t be actually suffering.”

I had to agree with that, but the entire situation made me boiling mad. When women were so often taken advantage of by men, it was unconscionable to think that there were women stupid enough to try to match that evil. If things happen which you don’t like, you make an effort to end the practice—not to get your own licks in. Hurting someone else because you’ve been hurt—that makes sense only if you go after whoever hurt you, not some possibly innocent substitute. …

My thoughts were a bit on the jangled side as the coach moved through the night, but that was only to be expected. It was still rather hard to believe that Naran had actually been waiting for me to escape, and if I’d left that house sooner I would have been in the coach sooner. The only thing to wear in the way of shoes had been what I’d had on: the flimsy slippers which matched the lacy gown. My feet now ached from the walking I’d done over stones and twigs, the ache telling me just how grateful I ought to be that I hadn’t had to keep walking.

But there were too many distractions attacking my emotions for gratitude to have much of a chance. Outraged indignation toward Rion’s mother was the easiest to define, and I felt glad that I was the one who would get him out of her clutches. She was a vile beast, easily as bad as Lanir if not worse. Enslaving a relative stranger was somehow not quite as bad as doing the same to your own flesh and blood….

I raised a hand to my head as I tried to fight off the rest of what I felt, but it was simply no use. I’d agreed that Valiant’s rescue could wait until Rion was free, but that had been an intellectual decision rather than an emotional one.

The inner me wept over Valiant’s absence, cried for the safety of his arms about me, ached over what might be happening to him right now. The outer me wanted to race to the Razas woman’s house and set a tightening circle of flame about her that would end up meeting in the middle of where she stood, but I couldn’t deny that Rion needed me more.

So first I would free Rion, and then I would go to the man who meant more to me than I’d ever be able to admit….

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dinner had been a dismal affair and was long since over, but Rion continued to sit in the chair he’d been helped to in the sitting room. Mother had joined him for dinner, of course, but after she’d had him helped to the sitting room she’d gone off somewhere. It was the way things had been before he’d left for the testing, being abandoned to his own devices in complete .solitude. Mother was obviously trying to re-accustom him to the life, but Rion felt that she had another purpose in mind as well. She’d given him a decision to make, and with nothing else to distract him he would have to consider that decision.

Rion put his head back and closed his eyes, more desolate than he’d ever imagined it was possible to be. The terror he’d felt—distantly, because of the drug—over losing his talent had turned into a throbbing pang of emptiness which refused to be assuaged. He’d asked himself many times during the last hours if keeping his mind would be all that desirable with both talent and freedom gone, but he hadn’t been able to come to a firm decision. The idea of death didn’t frighten him, but what if his damaged mind retained enough awareness to remember what he’d once been …?

The ice forming around his insides couldn’t be affected by the intake of hot tea, but Rion still opened his eyes and reached for his cup. Lifting it to his lips took something of an effort and most of his attention, and when he replaced the cup there was a servant standing not far from him.

“Would you like me to pour more tea for you, Lord Clarion?” the man, Ditras, asked. “It would be no trouble at all.”

“Yes, thank you, Ditras,” Rion responded, still taken by the surprise of an earlier discovery. All those servants he’d thought were laughing at him; since his return he’d been able to interpret their true feelings, which was, almost to a man or woman, pity. They’d known the truth of his situation long before he had, and had tried to offer unspoken sympathy and silent consolation. That he’d interpreted their actions as standoffish ridicule had been Mother’s doing, of course, using passing comments to make him think the worst of those around him. She’d wanted to make sure that no one would find it possible to take her place with him….

“Here I am, my darling, back with you as quickly as possible,” Mother all but sang as she sailed into the room. “Among other things, I’ve been busy arranging to have your clothing brought from Haven Wraithside, so you’ll no longer need to wear those rags. I can’t imagine what you did with the clothing you took with you to that filthy hovel. When I sent servants there to fetch it back, they were able to find nothing but those awful white shirts and gray trousers. I think the servants in that place must have stolen your lovely things when they realized that you would not be returning.”

“No one stole those things, Mother,” Rion said with a faint smile as Ditras faded back and away from him. “I burned all those ridiculous costumes, since not even the neediest of peasants would have been willing to wear any of them. You always told me they were the height of fashion and I believed you—until I learned what true fashion was. The only ones who wear those costumes are useless, mindless fops—something I don’t happen to be.”

“What you will be is what you once were,” Mother replied coldly, seating herself stiffly without taking her equally cold stare from his face. “You’ve now had time to consider the problem I put to you, just as I’ve had time to consider it. Is there anything you’d care to say to me before I tell you what decision I’ve come to?”