Authors: Diana Bold
Halcyon Rising (33 page)
“I’ll stay here,” she promised. “I said I would, and I meant it. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think there would be any danger here in the tower.”
“I did not think there would be, either.” Some of his wildness abated, and his arms loosened fractionally. “I do not know who was here. I did not think anyone could figure out the door, let alone find the hot springs.”
“Did you have a chance to search the tower? Is it empty?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “I was on my way back to tell you what I had found, to tell you that the tower was not safe and that you must return to Old Halcyon and wait for me there, when I saw you in the pool. I panicked, thinking of what could have happened if there had been someone here waiting for us.” He slowly released her and held her at arm’s length, scanning her from head to toe. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, of course not.” She caught his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking of anything but my concern for you. But I can’t believe you wouldn’t have done the same if our situations were released.”
He managed a wry smile. “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, my love. I suppose I should stop expecting you to react to any situation the way the women of my people do.”
She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles tenderly. “I think you might be surprised how much a woman,
any
woman, would do for the man she loves.”
any
woman, would do for the man she loves.”
He pulled her back into his arms, but this time his embrace was gentle. “Say it again,” he whispered, his breath hot against her temple. “I never tire of hearing that you love me.”
“I love you,” she replied, glad to be able to do this for him at least, though it didn’t seem nearly enough compared to everything he was about to do for her. “I love you so much, Sebastian.”
“I love you, too.” He held her for a long time, rocking her slightly, and she knew he was trying to figure out how to say good-bye, how to order her to return back to Old Halcyon and wait while he took all the risk.
She didn’t want to let him go, but it would be so much easier for him if she could at least calm his fears. No matter how much it killed it her to wait in the tunnels, she must make him believe he could trust her.
She must make him believe she’d keep her promise and allow him to complete this dangerous mission by himself.
Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. “Now that I know I can make it to the other side, the swim won’t be so bad. Is it all right if I wait on the other side of the tunnel, or would you prefer I went back to Old Halcyon?”
He stared at her in silence for a moment, then gave a sigh of resignation. “You can wait in the tunnel. But you must promise me, you must swear, that if I do not return in a couple of hours, you will return to Halcyon.”
“I will look at my timepiece when I get back to my pack, and then I will wait twelve hours.” There was no way in hell she was leaving him any sooner. “Twelve hours here and another twelve when I get safely back to
The Whale
. I promise I’ll dive at the first hint of trouble.”
The Whale
. I promise I’ll dive at the first hint of trouble.”
Looking as though he’d like to argue, he gave a stiff nod. “Very well. We have an agreement.”
“Be careful,” she whispered, blinking away a sudden wash of tears. “Please be careful, Sebastian.”
“I will be,” he replied. “I want to come back to you, Rhoswen. I will do everything in my power to succeed.”
She wanted more physical contact, wanted to kiss him and hug him and hold on so tight she’d crush the breath from him, but she was only delaying the inevitable and making it harder for both of them. “I love you,” she whispered once more, then took a deep breath and plunged back into the pool.
* * *
Sebastian stood frozen at the edge of the pool, staring at the spot where Rhoswen had disappeared beneath the water. He cursed himself for the intensity of his reaction to finding out she’d come after him.
God, what an idiot he’d been. She’d risked her life to save him, and then he’d railed at her like the worst sort of ass. He’d ruined what might have been the last few moments he would ever spend with her.
He considered going after her, making sure she’d reached the other side, making love to her one last time, but he couldn’t repay her bravery of a moment ago with such cowardice.
A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time to tell her everything he had to say, and each second at her side made it that much harder to let her go. Far better to make the break clean, as she had done, and pray his mission succeeded.
With a pensive frown, he kicked the blankets that had been left beside the pool. Who the hell had been down here? He’d been so sure the tower was secure, but someone had managed to gain entrance.
Was it Simon?
Had he known the secret of the magic door all along and only given Sebastian the illusion of safety? And how had he known of the springs? Perhaps the secret was passed down from lord to lord, as so many other secrets of the castle had been.
He frowned even harder, wondering what other secrets Simon had kept from him.
When no answers revealed themselves, he turned and mounted the stairs, his sense of urgency growing with each step.
He hurried up to the top floor of his tower and stripped off his damp Halcyon trousers, pulling on a dry set of his own scratchy, misshapen tunic, chausses and hose. As he searched through his trunk, he found several garments that didn’t belong to him—women’s garments.
Frowning as he wondered who had invaded his tower, he slipped on another of his cowled robes, deciding that the it would help him blend into the shadows better, and provide the anonymity he craved. Besides, if he were caught, his armor would be little protection from the onslaught of dozens of his brother’s men.
Warmly garbed, he slipped out the front door of the tower, skirting the curtain wall toward the tower that housed the dungeons, careful to stay out of the shallow pools of light cast by the intermittent torches.
The night was cold and dark, and as he trudged through the deep snow, he saw no one about. He had counted on the fact that the guards would be peering outward, not expecting any attack to come from within.
He made the tower without incident and was pleased to see the door was unguarded. Since the cells were nigh inescapable, he had not really expected anyone to bar the way, though there might be a guard on duty below.
Once inside, he debated for a long moment, trying to decide whether to go up or down. If Trevelan were resting peacefully in the tower room where Sebastian had moved him, he risked the chance of running into a dungeon guard for nothing.
But knowing Simon as he did, Sebastian could well imagine the fury that had gripped his brother when he had returned from the coast. No doubt he had turned that anger upon the hapless Trevelan. If the man had survived the inevitable beating, he would have certainly been moved back to the dungeon to prevent any further loss of control.
Taking a deep breath, Sebastian headed toward the dungeon. As always, the rank smell of old pain and suffering disturbed him, but he pushed on, stealing silently down the stairs.
He was relieved to see that no torches had been lit, which seemed to indicate no guards were on duty. When he reached the bottom, nothing met him but the silent darkness.
He switched on the lightstick, making a quick circuit of the half dozen cells, only to find them empty. Frowning, he took the stairs back up two at time, then continued on to the tower room where he and Rhoswen had abandoned Trevelan to his fate.
Unchallenged, he found the room as empty as the dungeons. His heart sank, because he feared the worst. Trevelan had undoubtedly been beaten to death upon Simon’s return, his broken body cast aside like so much rubbish.
His heart ached at the thought of telling Rhoswen that Trevelan was gone. She would probably never forgive herself for her friend’s death. She would have a hard time trusting her own judgment from now on, always remembering that if she had not leapt to conclusions, Trevelan might have stood a chance.
Trevelan was most certainly dead. But there was only one way to be certain.
Sebastian had to talk to Simon.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rhoswen pulled herself out of the steaming water, collapsing upon the rocky floor of the tunnel. Harsh sobs wracked her body as she fought for breath. The swim back through the passageway had been slightly less terrifying, but still not something she’d want to do on a regular basis. And she’d been even more exhausted this time, tired and heartsick about leaving Sebastian behind.
She should have been the one who went to Trevelan’s rescue. That indisputable fact drove her mad, though she knew she’d never have been able to accomplish what Sebastian could. She didn’t know the layout of the castle well enough and was no warrior. Even if she’d managed to find Trevelan, she wouldn’t have been able to carry him to safety if he lacked the strength to walk.
Still, it killed her to know Sebastian risked his life and Trevelan suffered untold agony or was dead already, because of her own stupid mistakes. She wondered if she’d ever be able to trust her instincts again.
Despite what she’d promised Sebastian, she knew she’d never be able to get up and walk away from here if he hadn’t returned in twelve hours. If he didn’t return, she couldn’t bear the uncertainty. She’d forever wonder if he’d been killed or imprisoned, or if there was something she could have done to help him if she went back.
Though far more enlightened than most of his people, he still held the sexist belief that a woman could never rescue a man. Perhaps he was right, but there was no way she was leaving this place until he either returned or she’d done everything in her ability to find out why not and rectify the situation if she could.
He could be angry with her if he wanted. She didn’t care, as long as he was alive.
After she’d worn herself out with tears, she slowly pulled herself off the ground and forced herself to change into some dry clothes and eat something. All this crying served no purpose. She had to remain optimistic until given a reason to lose hope.
Sebastian was strong and resourceful. She had to believe he’d succeed. And when he returned, she intended to meet him with a happy smile and open arms.
* * *
Hidden passageways riddled Hawkesmere’s walls, though as far as Sebastian knew, only he and Simon were privy to that fact. As children they had played wild games of hide and seek within the cobweb-laced corridors, which were seldom used. They existed only to provide safe passage if the castle were under attack and as an easy way for the lord of the manor to spy upon his subjects if he chose.
He entered the passageway in the dungeon tower and made his way toward Simon’s private chambers in the southeast corner of the castle. Never had he been so grateful for the lightstick, though the walls still pressed in on him with dark menace. He had spent far too much time in dark, closed-in spaces during the last few days.
The path was time consuming, given the many twists and turns, stairs and slopes, but at last he found himself behind the hidden door in his brother’s rooms. He peered through the small peephole, trying to determine if Simon slept alone tonight. He would hate to have to deal with a hysterical kitchen maid on top of everything else.
To his relief, it appeared as though his brother had foregone his usual evening entertainment. Simon sprawled on his back across his massive bed, his heavy snores filling the chamber.
Holding his breath, Sebastian opened the passage door, wincing when the once well-oiled portal groaned loudly. Simon stirred, then let out his breath in another snore.
Relieved, Sebastian crossed the room to his brother’s side, picking up a jeweled knife from the bread plate on the table next to the bed. Knowing better than to let his brother get the upper hand, given their last encounter, he placed the blade carefully against Simon’s throat.
“Hello, Simon,” he murmured.
With a whuff of surprise, Simon woke. His eyes widened in obvious shock when he saw who had dared to enter his chamber, but he remained still and watchful, aware of the knife at his throat.
“I am not here to hurt you,” Sebastian told him. “That was never my intention, brother.” He released the pressure of the knife fractionally so Simon could answer him.
Simon drew in a deep breath, then let it out in soft laugh. “My God. I thought you were dead. I have been mourning you ever since I returned from the coast.”
Simon’s lack of anger took Sebastian aback, but he wasn’t foolish enough to trust it. “Seems odd to mourn someone you killed.”
“Is it? I have watched you mourn for those you killed these many long years.” His gaze met Sebastian’s with entreaty. “Sometimes duty forces us to make choices we abhor. I did not relish shooting you; you have to know that. You left me no choice.”
Perhaps Simon had a point, because God knew the ghosts of his own past haunted him, but they had too much else to talk about. “Well, as you can see, I have made a full recovery, thanks to the skilled healers of Rhoswen’s people.”
“You have been there?” Simon asked, obviously startled. “They are so close, then?”
Now it was Sebastian’s turn to laugh. “You would never believe me if I told you, and I do not have the time to explain it all. Suffice it to say that you were right when you called her fey. I need you to trust me when I say neither Rhoswen nor her people are any threat to us.”
Simon held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded slightly. “I will trust you in this, for I do not think you would have returned if you were lying. May I get up?”
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