Halcyon Rising (6 page)

“So you keep saying, but given her manner of dress, I doubt the wench is innocent. What about the things in her pack? Have you discovered anything useful?”

“I have looked at everything, but I cannot understand how to use anything but the magnifying tube.” Guilt assailed Sebastian as he thought of the amazing light stick, but he feared once Simon knew of the discovery the entire lot would be taken from him and his chance to examine the rest of the items would end. Besides, he still held out hope that his prisoner would give him more information.

“I figured if anyone could decipher their purpose, it would be you.” Simon’s voice expressed his displeasure and suspicion.

Sebastian kept his gaze impassive. “Given a little more time and the lady’s assistance, I am sure I will make some progress.”

“See that you do,” Simon demanded. “Nothing about our captive makes sense, little brother. And I will not rest easy until I know why she is here.”

* * *

True to his word, Sebastian left Rhoswen tethered to his bed for less than an hour. When he returned, she couldn’t suppress her relief, though anger still churned within her. He’d left plenty of slack in her bonds, but the helplessness had overwhelmed her.

The moment he returned, he strode to her side and unknotted the scarf. As he noticed her chafed, raw wrists, he gave her a chiding glance. “You should not have struggled, lady”

“For all I knew, you weren’t coming back.” She glared at him, refusing to let him chastise her for daring to try to escape once again. “I can’t imagine you’d allow someone to imprison you without a word of complaint.”

“Of course not.” A shadow fell across his face, and he stepped back, dropping her hands as though she had burned him. “You must know I am trying to make this as easy on you as possible.”

“A prison is a prison, no matter how comfortable your jailer tries to make you.” She glared at him, wondering at his stricken look and wishing she could sustain her hatred.

He turned away, gesturing toward the stairs. “If you are ready to use the garderobe, it is through the door on the landing. And there is more stew, if you are feeling up to another bowl.”

Frustrated by his refusal to argue with her, she slid out of the huge bed, landing upon her battered feet with a wince of pain. Gritting her teeth, she made her way across the room, then out on to the chilly landing. Wind howled through the uncovered arrow slits, and the stone felt like ice beneath her frozen toes.

Wrinkling her nose, she edged into the garderobe, which consisted of nothing more than a hole cut in a stone bench. The smell was not too terrible now in late fall, but she could only imagine how horrid the stench would be in the heat of summer.

Shivering, she used the facilities as quickly as possible, longing for her warm, clean bathing room back in Halcyon. Perhaps this, more than anything else, renewed her desire to return home at any cost.

She could not end her life in a place without a proper place to relief herself.

When she finished, she cast a regretful glance at the stairs, but knew this wasn’t the time to try another escape. Far better to lull Sebastian into a false sense of security. She’d sneak away after she’d rebuilt her strength and his guard was down.

Entering the bedchamber, she found him sprawled tiredly in the chair behind his desk, still trying to figure out how to work her data unit. So far, he hadn’t even managed to open the case. Suppressing a triumphant grin, she went to the fireplace and served herself some more stew.

Perched on the edge of the bed, she ate her dinner and watched as his frustration grew. In a way, she felt sorry for him. Among his people, he was obviously considered something of a genius, so his inability to understand her simple instruments must aggravate him to no end.

At last he pushed away from the table with a low curse. His emerald gaze clashed with hers. Once again, the haunted beauty of his eyes stunned her, shredding the righteous anger she’d managed to build.

“I wish you would at least tell me your name.” When he spoke, his voice roughened, and his expression turned entreating.

“Why? So you’ll have a name to put to your prisoner?” She forced herself to remain strong, to not give in to the sudden desire to cross the room and cradle his tired face against her chest, perhaps even stroke his brow in comfort. The very thought was so unlike her she fought a rush of panic. What was wrong with her? She’d never let her emotions rule her this way.

“I am sorry, my lady. Truly, you have forced me into an untenable position. I do not wish to keep you here, but if I let you go without finding out more about you, my brother will never forgive me.”

She rose and returned her empty bowl to the table near the fireplace. His many kindnesses proved he was a good man, but that didn’t change the fact that he was her enemy. “I fear my only value lies in keeping my secrets. Once I’ve told you all, and you’ve reported back to your brother, I’ll become a liability.”

“I will not let any harm come to you.” His voice came from mere inches behind her. “Not even if it means claiming you as my own.”

She whirled, stunned to discover he’d crossed the room and stood staring down at her with breathtaking sincerity.

“Claim me as your own?” She shook her head, backing away, horrified by the idea. No matter how sinfully attractive she found him, she would not allow him to claim her like some sort of trophy. She did not comprehend the entire concept of marriage, though it seemed to be fueled by politics and greed. Her own people mated only for pleasure or genetics. “No man has the right to claim me.”

“Only as a last resort,” he hastened to reassure her, looking anything but happy at the prospect. “Believe me, I have no wish to wed, but as the lord’s brother, I can offer you the protection of both my sword and my tower.”

“Wed?” His offer, while chivalrous, terrified her, because just for a moment — one dark, dangerous moment — she’d imagined all that being his wife would entail. “I cannot wed a Surface barbarian!”

“Surface barbarian?” His eyes flashed with indignation, and she realized their conversation had diminished to a ridiculous farce, each of them dumbly parroting the other’s words. “Is that what I am to you? And what do you mean by Surface?”

She clamped her lips shut, refusing to say another word. She’d done more than enough damage for one day. Not only had she failed to escape, but she was well on her way to ensuring he’d never let her go.

With a furious huff, he gestured toward the bed. “Time for you and the scarf to become reacquainted.” For the first time, he addressed her coldly, seeming to have lost all patience. “I tire of your company and dare not leave you to your own devices.”

Heart sinking, she obeyed his command, uncertain how far she’d pushed him. To her relief, he secured her bond with his usual gentleness.

“I will not be far,” he relented, as he reached the doorway. “Just down in my workroom. Call out if you have need.”

As he disappeared down the stairs, she blinked away a sudden rush of tears.
Infuriating man.
Despite everything, his presence was the only thing holding her together. She feared if he left her alone for long, terror would consume her.

* * *

As night fell, Trevelan braced himself against the biting cold, staring up at the great stone fortress where Rhoswen had been taken. He’d arrived at the castle late yesterday evening, after the gates had already closed, and was forced to take what rest he could in the forest.

He’d spent the day examining the defenses, but had yet to come up with a feasible rescue plan. Too many warriors guarded the gates, and even if he managed to breach the interior, too many possibilities lay within. He could wander those halls and towers for days without finding her.

Guilt consumed him.

He never should have let her swim to shore by herself. But he’d been so furious after their disagreement he’d needed a few moments alone. He’d counted on her support for his cause, had never dreamed she’d side with the heathens who populated the Surface.

By the time he’d anchored their vessel, she’d already been surrounded. There had been little he could do but trail behind and hope for the opportunity to free her. He’d followed her toward the interior of the country for days, but she’d remained too well guarded.

He had no weapons, nothing on his side except the power of his mind, but even that formidable advantage was little comfort when pitted against an entire castle of armed men.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. In all the many years his people had spied upon the Surface, not one of them had ever been taken prisoner. He tried to find comfort in the thought that these heathens would never believe Rhoswen’s story, even if they managed to get her to talk.

But if, by some miracle, they did believe her, and somehow managed to find the submersible craft and coerce her into navigating it to Halcyon… Who knew what sort of havoc these lawless barbarians could unleash upon the placid beauty of his home?

The wisest course was to return to his vessel, go back to Halcyon, admit his failure, and ask the council for guidance. But his concern for Rhoswen kept him rooted in place, desperate to think of another way.

Her very life was in jeopardy. Even if the council authorized some sort of formal rescue mission — which was doubtful — she might not survive long enough for them to implement it. The mere thought of what she could be suffering at this very moment made him mad with fury.

Though she’d banished him from her bed years ago, they’d remained steadfast friends, and he’d always expected her to change her mind. He’d thought if he just gave her a little time she would remember how good they’d been together. In fact, he’d expected their shared desire to take back the Surface to be the spark that rekindled their relationship.

Now he feared he’d never see her again. And he couldn’t live with that.

With a soft groan of frustration, he focused his attention on his surroundings, resting his gaze upon the immense beast tethered less than a dozen yards away. All day, he’d watched the men of the castle come and go on the backs of their mighty warhorses, covering distances far faster than he could ever manage on foot. He’d never ridden one of the animals before, but it looked relatively simple. How hard could it be, given that these savages did it on a daily basis?

He hated to leave Rhoswen behind, but he must face the fact that he could not rescue her by himself. If he returned to
The Dolphin
on horseback, it would cut the amount of time needed to summon help in half.

Decision made, he checked again to be certain the horse’s owner remained out of sight in a nearby hut. No doubt the man would give chase once he realized the animal was missing, but by then Trevelan planned to be long gone.

Stealing along the tree line, he remained hidden until mere feet separated him from the horse. He gave his surroundings one more searching glance, then left the shelter of the trees and headed toward the animal, completely focused on his goal.

He grabbed the reins, put his foot in the stirrup, and vaulted into the saddle, just the way he’d seen it done. Satisfaction swept through him, but it was short lived. The massive animal heaved, tossing him into the air as though he weighed nothing. Scrambling for purchase, he tightened his grip on the reins and squeezed his thighs, trying to hold on, but the horse continued to buck.

Cursing viciously, he made a desperate attempt to hook his feet in the stirrups, but the saddle twisted, and he slid sideways.

Angry shouts filled the air as he lost his grip, landing upon the ground with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. Bright pinpoints of light danced before his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.

Running footsteps approached from the direction of the hut. Panicked, he pushed up on his knees, but before he could regain his feet, a well-placed kick connected with his midsection, driving him back down to the ground.

“Sodding horse thief.” The man followed the kick with a wicked blow to Trevelan’s temple. “I will see you hanged from the highest tree, bastard knave.”

White light exploded in his mind. He did his best to push back the darkness that followed, but realized he’d seriously underestimated his enemies.

What help could he be to Rhoswen when he appeared doomed to share her fate?

Sebastian remained in his workroom for several hours. He tried to lose himself in his work, but guilt and anger raged within him. Her comment about a prison being a prison, no matter how comfortable…

He knew all too well the truth of that. It killed him to think he had become the very thing he had despised during his own captivity.

No matter how extravagant, his gilded cage had still been hell. Despite all Sa’id’s kindnesses, all the promises he had made and all the wisdom he had shared, he had kept Sebastian against his will. He had taken things Sebastian had never wanted to give…

As the hated memories crashed down around him, he dropped the
aqua ardens
he had been distilling for weeks. He cursed when the glass vial shattered upon the oak floor, ruining all his work and proving how much the girl upstairs had disrupted his once well-ordered life.

Anger overtook the guilt, but he did not know whether to focus the emotion on his brother, himself, or his enchanting prisoner.