Donnel's Promise (14 page)

Muir's answer put an abrupt end to the run of her thoughts. ‘Donnel left Fratton five days ago.'

‘Left? Why? Has he returned to LeMarc or—'

‘Inside.' He tapped on the door. A panel slid open and shut then a key scraped in a lock.

Risha didn't recognise the man who stood aside to let them pass, nor two of the three who sat around a table within. The third she did.

‘Risha!' Emett's chair toppled backwards as he sprang up. ‘How in Tor's bitter breath are you here?'

A bubble of laughter escaped her — she'd not heard the saying since leaving the mountains. ‘It's good to see you,' she said, catching hold of his hands and staring up at his face. ‘But do you never plan to stop growing?'

He lifted her suddenly and spun her around, the familiar fall of his hair, the tilt of his mouth transporting her back to the childhood they'd shared. When he set her down she felt dizzy. Muir's voice, issuing commands, brought her back to herself. The room, which had felt crowded when they entered, now held only the people she knew: Fenn, Nolan and Croft standing stiffly by the door, Muir leaning against a table, his face expressionless as he studied her.

She stepped out of the circle of Emett's arms.

‘How did you manage to escape Goltoy?' Emett asked, casting a speculative glance at Nolan and Croft.

Risha's delight at seeing him faded. ‘Gorth hasn't reached you?'

‘Gorth? No.'

‘We sent him ahead with a message for Donnel; he should have been here days ago.' Her teeth caught her lip as she considered the ills that might have befallen the man.

‘But how did you—'

‘Risha! You're here!'

The young woman who stood in the chamber's inner
doorway bore only a passing resemblance to the timid child they had rescued. Petite still, she had acquired curves that announced her childhood had passed, while her fair hair was caught up in a complicated braid that wrapped around her head like a crown.

‘Hello, Margetta. You've grown up.'

The girl's lips — the upper a perfect bow, the lower vulnerably full — curved as she held out her hands. Risha took them. There was still something waif-like about her; a lingering uncertainty in the elfin face and bright eyes.

‘It's been so long! Is Lord Donnel with you? We'd not thought to see him back so soon.'

‘In truth I hoped to find my father here.'

The delicate brows drew in. ‘But … Did he not rescue you? We thought the plan flawed, but he would not be swayed. Surely he—'

‘There was no rescue.' Risha ran a hand through her hair, not improving its appearance.

Muir spoke. ‘Arishara, Donnel left with the intention of securing your freedom. He rides to meet Goltoy.'

‘No!' Darkness welled around her, Ciaran's voice calling through it:
You must warn Donnel
. Someone screamed, the voice rising through the sound of battle. Flags snapped and strained against a skyline she knew, yet didn't know. She cried out, her voice muffled by darkness. Streaks of red flickered through it, swelling and pooling around her in a liquid prison of blood and torn flesh.

‘—not the first time.'

‘Risha, open your eyes.'

Her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips. Her limbs were strangely immobile without being heavy. She felt as
though she did not quite belong in her body.

‘Here.'

Something damp touched her face. A bead of liquid dribbled down her temple and into her hair. It was almost as if she saw rather than felt it.

‘She's rousing.'

‘Risha, wake up.' The voice was soft and insistent.

She knew it. ‘Muir?'

‘Aye.'

She opened her eyes. Muir's face was directly above her own, his hand cradling her head. She was lying down, lying in his arms. She smiled. His breath rushed out; she felt the warmth of it on her cheek.

‘You're all right?'

She hadn't felt so at ease in years.

‘What happened?'

She didn't want to leave the bubble of calm she lay in. ‘I don't—'

‘Sit up, Arishara.' Fenn held out a cup. ‘Drink.'

Muir lifted her a little and she reached for the proffered drink, her hand trembling as she grasped it. His fingers closed over hers, guiding the cup to her lips. She drank, the water running down inside her as if it were a stream trickling through sand. Perhaps she'd knocked her head. ‘Did I fall?' It made no sense.

‘You fainted. Or something similar,' Muir answered.

‘What did you see?'

She blinked at Nolan's question. ‘I—' Red. She'd seen blood, and heard Ciaran's voice. The world rushed back into the stillness. She flinched and Muir's arm tightened around her shoulders. ‘Where is Donnel? Can we reach him? It's important, Muir.'

‘I don't doubt it. You'll need to start at the beginning.'

She struggled up, out of his embrace. She had been lying on a couch. As she swung her legs to the floor the world swayed.

‘Slowly,' Fenn warned.

‘What is this?' Muir asked.

Fenn studied Risha's eyes. ‘Give her time. She'll be fine.'

‘That's not what I asked.'

Nolan answered. ‘She's been ill, but this is something other. It's not the first time it's happened.'

‘Breathe, Risha.' Fenn's voice was calm and soothing. ‘You're in FrattonSeat; we've just arrived.'

She felt oddly bereft. ‘I'm all right, Muir, truly.' She took a breath and studied the images that surged through her as though carried in her blood. Blood. ‘But we have to warn Donnel.'

‘Of what, exactly?'

‘A trap. Goltoy's trap.'

‘It's too late,' Emett said.

Bleakness filled her. Someone took her hand. She stared at the tanned fingers holding her own.

‘Donnel has gone to Elion,' Muir said. ‘To your wedding.'

She looked up, her cheeks colouring at the memory of lying so sleepily content in his arms. ‘Not mine,' she said. ‘Lyse's.'

13

Debts

O
nce the story had begun to flow it unravelled like a rope fraying into its separate strands.

‘It was brave of Lyse to agree,’ Emett said. ‘Do you suppose she realised the risk?’

‘It was less this way than any other,’ Nolan answered.

‘You could have held out. If—’

‘We couldn’t,’ Risha intervened. ‘Emett, they
out-numbered
us three to one.’

‘Yet you held them off once.’

‘In daylight, for a few hours.’ Nolan stalked to the window. When he turned to face them his expression was perfectly blank. ‘We could have fought to the death. If we had, Risha would be Harbin’s prisoner, my men would be dead, and Lyse and Ciaran would be prisoners of a different kind. Would you have chosen that as a better option?’

No one answered. Risha hadn’t realised how heavily the choices they’d made sat on his conscience.

‘We need to decide what to do next,’ she said briskly. ‘Where will Donnel be now?’

‘His plan was to ride south to the Black Lake, there
joining forces with whatever troops could be spared from Othbridge, before heading west through Havre and on to Elion.’ Muir’s expression gave nothing away.

‘He’ll find no welcome in Havre,’ Nolan said. ‘Athan was LeMarc’s ally. Vormer is not.’

‘Aye, well. We weren’t sure whether there was any truth to the rumour that Vormer had seized power, but in case it proved so Donnel planned to ride direct to Leighton rather than south to the port city — he’ll likely pass through Havre without Vormer being aware of his presence.’

‘Vormer has a network of spies that runs the length and breadth of the duchy.’ Nolan’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’ll know within a day of Donnel crossing the border.’

Risha’s fingers tightened on the arms of her chair as she leant forward. ‘How many men does Donnel have?’

‘He left here with two dozen. He’ll gain a similar number at Othbridge.’

‘Donnel aims to snatch me from under Goltoy’s nose with fewer than fifty men?’

Muir shook his head. ‘His intention was to travel fast. As well …’ He sighed. ‘LeMarc is currently stretched, my lady. Half our army is deployed in holding Fratton secure, and Donnel was mindful of Goltoy’s ploy of two years ago. He did not wish to leave LeMarc undefended when there seemed no need: he expected Havre to rise in your defence.’

‘Under Athan they would have. I would not place a wager on it at present,’ Nolan said.

‘Surely Havre’s people will be opposed to a forced marriage with Westlaw?’

‘What they feel and what they do are different
things,’ Nolan said. ‘The duchy is in an uproar. Talben has been denounced as a renegade with a price on his head, the guard Athan sent into Westlaw betrayed. Any who oppose Vormer are labelled traitors. From what we’ve heard, Havre’s prisons are full. Having thus made his intentions clear, the people may not dare rise against him.’

‘So we have another Somoran on our hands.’

Margetta sat down abruptly.

‘Or another Goltoy,’ Risha said.

Muir’s index finger tapped the table. ‘The wedding is to be held in Elion in two weeks’ time. If Donnel can no longer count Havre among his allies, he will be riding unsupported into a trap.’

‘Vormer’s army stands between Leighton and Whitelaw. Donnel will meet trouble long before he reaches Elion,’ Nolan said.

‘How could Vormer muster the numbers to take Havreport?’ Muir said.

Risha’s lips parted as an image from her nightmare suddenly slid into focus, its meaning newly clear. ‘Westlarns!’ Her mouth had gone dry. ‘Two flags fly over the city. Vormer is using Westlarn soldiers to quell any resistance.’

Nolan spun around. ‘He would not!’

‘He would. He has—’ she hesitated — ‘or will.’

‘What makes you say so?’ Muir asked.

Risha’s mouth opened but no sound came. In LeMarc, Cantrel alone knew of the unpredictable talent she had inherited from her mother. She had not spoken of it even to Donnel.

‘Risha?’

Muir would think her a freak. It was not even as though it was a useful skill, given she could not wield or control it.

‘She has Havre’s Gift,’ Fenn answered. ‘The visions come unbidden and leave her disoriented, but they have thus far proven accurate.’

Risha shook her head in denial. ‘I can’t always
understand
what I see.’

Muir stood very still. ‘How often does this happen?’

‘Not often — though it seems to be getting worse. When I was a child I had a friend with whom I could mindspeak, but Pelon was adamant that I should close my mind to it. I didn’t understand; I still don’t. Muir—’

‘The visions are sometimes of things to come rather than things past, are they not?’ Nolan’s gaze was intent.

‘I … perhaps. Ciaran might answer you better.’

‘Ciaran also has the Gift?’ Margetta’s voice was
tremulous
.

‘Curse, I would say,’ Risha answered. ‘And I think so. We’ve not discussed it.’

Nolan frowned, but he did not voice his thought.

‘You said you could read minds when you were a child.’ Emett looked petulant.

‘Not read minds. I heard a voice in my head. Ganny thought I’d made it up to counter my loneliness.’

‘Ganny knows of this?’ Emett was staring as though she’d transformed to something entirely distasteful.

‘Emett, I—’

Muir interrupted. ‘Leaving that aside for now, as Arishara says, our priority is to get a message to Donnel.’ He turned a map that lay on the table, adjusting the weights that held its corners. ‘It would have taken him
the better part of three days to reach the Black Lake, by which time Captain Galyn would be waiting. By my guess, they’ll not be far off Churton by now.’

‘On the eastern arm of CaledonWater?’ Nolan asked. ‘Can you get a message to him there?’

Muir shook his head. ‘We’ve no birds homed to Churton and there’s no time to send a rider.’

Risha leant past him to study the map. ‘Will Donnel follow the shore road beyond Churton?’

‘It’s hard to know. He might.’

‘How well does he know Havre?’ Nolan asked.

‘He knew it well enough two decades ago.’

Nolan gave a considering grunt.

‘And after Leighton?’ Fenn asked.

Muir’s expression gave nothing away. ‘The invitation came under pledge of truce. Donnel attends the wedding as an invited guest.’

Risha gaped. ‘He must know he can’t trust Goltoy!’

‘Who would know better?’ Muir asked quietly. ‘But do you think he would sit by as his only child is married into Westlaw against her will?’

‘But she is not,’ Margetta burst out. ‘If it were known that Risha is safe, Goltoy’s hand would be empty.’

‘Not quite empty,’ Risha said. ‘If word of the ruse reaches Goltoy, what chance do you suppose Lyse and Ciaran would have?’

There was an uncomfortable silence.

‘Risha’s right,’ Fenn said, after a pause. ‘Donnel must learn the truth while Goltoy must not.’ She turned to Muir. ‘I assume you have birds homed to Caledon?’

He confirmed with a nod.

‘Then we can get messages by boat to Merren Bay
and Leighton. Olli and Lillet will help. That gives us two chances at least.’

‘I’ll attend to it.’ He stood up. ‘And send a bird to Cantrel.’

Risha studied Muir’s face but could not read what she saw there.

‘From Goltoy’s perspective, this uprising has been conveniently timed,’ Nolan said.

‘And that is not the only factor that would hint at whose hand lies behind it,’ Muir agreed. ‘Not one of those involved had the wit or resources to have planned such a venture. Now if you’ll excuse me.’

Fenn rose. ‘I’ll come with you. You’ll need to know how to reach Lillet and Olli.’

Margetta’s skirt rustled. Pink spots lit her cheeks. ‘Captain Nolan, perhaps you might accompany them. It will give Commander Muir the opportunity to show you the features of the Keep.’

When Nolan hesitated, Margetta sighed. ‘I would like to speak with my cousin alone.’

‘Ah.’ Nolan’s eyes darted from Margetta to Risha, but whatever message he tried to convey was lost.

‘Emett, would you be good enough to arrange refreshments and rooms for our guests? Guardsman Croft might go with you.’

Croft followed the others to the door, closed it gently behind them and took up a position in front of it.

‘Guardsman?’ Margetta lifted her chin.

Croft stood to attention. ‘Lady Fratton.’

‘You may leave us.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Croft said.

Margetta’s pretty mouth fell open. ‘Why not?’

‘Never have been good at taking orders. The captain despairs of me.’

Risha snorted. ‘That’s true,’ she confirmed.

‘Lady Arishara there saved my life,’ he expanded, ‘so I owe her mine. It’s a simple equation.’

Margetta turned to Risha. ‘Can you not command him to leave?’

Risha glanced at Croft and shook her head. ‘I trust him with my life, Margetta. I’m content that he stay.’

Margetta looked nonplussed. ‘At least command that he not listen to our conversation.’

‘Certainly. Croft?’

‘Deaf as a post, my lady.’

‘Good.’

Margetta wilted. ‘I don’t understand how you can trust anyone. There is no one here I trust. They all pretend friendship then scheme behind my back.’

‘I doubt that’s so,’ Risha said. ‘You can surely trust

Emett and Muir, and there must be others.’ ‘Emett is your friend before mine, and Muir hates it here. Who can blame him? Twice he has nearly died defending a girl he doesn’t care for in a place not his own.’

‘Twice?’ Risha’s heart lurched in her chest.

‘His loyalty will never lie with anyone but you. It cannot.’

‘He is my father’s bondsman. He swore an oath—’

‘To Donnel, yes. It keeps him here, but it did not stop him from begging Donnel to allow him to go to your aid.’ Abruptly she changed tack. ‘Did you know we were cousins?’

Wordless, Risha shook her head.

‘We share a great-grandmother, and that is not all:
there were four great and seven lesser marriages between the royal houses of Fratton and Havre. Somoran had me study such things; he was obsessed.’ She took Risha’s arm and drew her onto a couch. ‘It was Havre’s Gift that interested him. He was convinced I must carry it.’

‘And do you?’

Margetta’s mouth compressed to a tight bud. ‘It is latent. Somoran summoned a scholar to test me. It felt as if he was trying to pry a way into my mind with a needlethin blade, and gave me the most terrible headaches, but they would not let me be.’

Risha remembered her own aching skull when she and Timon had tried, unsuccessfully, to replicate the mental communion that had helped save LeMarc from Westlaw’s siege. ‘I can imagine.’

‘I tried to satisfy them, but I could not. Somoran was furious, but Kinnoc said it did not signify, that I would be sure to br—breed true.’ She caught her breath in a little hiccough. ‘As if I were a prize mare.’

Risha glanced sidelong at Croft but he was staring straight ahead, his expression blank. She took the younger girl’s hand between her own. ‘Margetta. Somoran is gone. You’ll never be treated that way again.’

Margetta frowned. ‘But don’t you see? It’s exactly the same! Goltoy wants you, not for Havre, but for the Gift you can bequeath.’

Risha blinked. ‘I … had not thought of it that way.’

‘They all want to possess what we have. That is why no one can be trusted.’

Risha shook the notion aside. ‘I don’t think it so bad. You must have other friends. What of Raen? Didn’t she help you escape Somoran?’

Margetta’s face stiffened. ‘She is dead. She was killed, because of me, because she defended me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘As for the rest — my advisors and supposed friends — they are always looking for ways to ingratiate and gain advantage. Is it not the same in Havre?’

‘There … is an element of that,’ Risha had to concede. ‘But there are people everywhere who are genuine in their kindness.’

‘It’s easy for you—’

‘That’s not so. My childhood was not so bad as yours, but I doubt anyone would call it easy. And when I arrived in LeMarc I thought myself a prisoner rather than a daughter of the royal house.’ Indeed she recalled soaking Muir’s chest with girlish tears. She still blushed at the memory. She squeezed Margetta’s hand. ‘It will be all right. Sometimes things look darker than they are, and even when they are so bad it doesn’t seem they could get worse, they can still get better.’

Tears welled in Margetta’s eyes. ‘But I’m not brave like you! I can’t even pretend. It was all right at first, but now …’ The tears overspilled.

Risha wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. Croft made a small noise in his throat, but when Risha glanced up his eyes were firmly fixed on the wall opposite.

With a shuddering breath Margetta mastered her tears. Risha twitched a damp strand of hair from the girl’s cheek. ‘As for being brave: you are one of the bravest people I know. Do you not remember how you nursed the injured while the citadel was besieged? And to return here, given your memories of the place — I am not sure I could have done it.’

Margetta sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘I’m sorry for crying. Barc says I must be strong.’