The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (30 page)

“Bridgett, I…”

“Hush.” Her tone was soft, but serious. “Let me finish.” He nodded in apology, and she continued to speak. “Eublin contacted me. He told me what he knew, only that you were in the Grove, unconscious, and Fallon wouldn’t allow you assistance. Gus retrieved you and brought you here. You have slept through an entire day and night.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I was at the end of my strength, and I had to end the fight or lose. It was my only option.”

“I know.” Her smile was genuine, but strained. “Fallon will come to see that as well.”

“Are you upset with me, too?”

“A bit,” she gazed at him intently, “but not for the same reasons.” Pain flashed across his expression at the thought of causing her to be angry. “I am angry with you because you continue to make rash decisions. I am furious with you for placing yourself in situations where rash decisions are necessary.” He looked up at her in confusion, trying to sort through the meaning behind her words.

“There isn’t always time to think of the possible consequences of an action during a battle. I had to act.”

“I know. You did the right thing,” she raised her hand to stop his protests, “but I am terrified of what might happen next. I have spent most of my life in a safe, little bubble, protected from the woes of the world. I have seen sickness, and I have been devoted to curing it. I have seen death, but I have never seen such brutal, wasteful death as I have seen since meeting you.” Osric sat in anguish at the implications of her words. She was in pain, and it was his fault for including her.

“I never meant for any of this to happen. I am so sorry.” She leaned forward and pressed a finger to his lips to silence him.

“That’s just it. I should be furious with you. Yet, all I can think about is the fact that I only feel safe at your side. I should yearn for the protection of the Grove, but I can’t stand the thought of being away from you for a day.” She tore her gaze from his eyes and stared down at the floor. “Osric, I am angry because I am scared. I’m scared of the way I feel and of what it means.”

His head was sent reeling by each additional sentence that tumbled from her lips. She looked so fragile, and yet she was the strongest woman he had ever seen. The weight of her words finally hit him in full force, and he sank to his knees before her. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he caressed her cheek and raised her chin. As their eyes met, a single tear rolled down her cheek, and a lump rose up in Osric’s throat at her blatant vulnerability.

“I never meant to cause you pain. From the first time I saw you, I was destined to love you. My need to protect the people of this city, and to stop this war, pales in comparison to my desire to protect you. My thoughts ever return to you, whether we are near or far.”

She pressed her finger once again to his lips, and she whispered, “You can have that kiss now.”

*

Toby traversed the dark hallways in frustration. The palace had been rebuilt in a rudimentary way, functional, yet lacking the trappings and majesty it once held. Two days since the Vigiles had won the day, and nobody had heard a peep from the Ryhain. Stanton’s once glorious leader had been locked in his chambers since the palace was restored enough to be utilized. The last time Toby had made his report, the Ryhain had looked tired and distant, but his health seemed to have been recovered after being dug out of the palace rubble. Yet, for the past week, Toby had not seen or heard a word from his superior. It wasn’t only the Ryhain’s lack of communication since the victory that bugged him, but the blatant lack of interest in the people of Stanton as they recovered from the initial attack on the palace. That, more than anything else, caused Toby’s mind to fill with rage. Then, suddenly, Toby had received a summons to report to the Ryhain’s chambers.

His steps were filled with purpose as they echoed through the pale, stone hallways. He had no idea what the Ryhain wanted with him, but he planned to make him answer for his lack of concern for his charges, the people of Stanton. He yearned to demand that the Ryhain emerge from his chambers and attend to the people he was responsible for. He could not be allowed to continue ignoring his people. Toby rehearsed the words in his head to remind the Ryhain of his previous honor and diligence in leading his people.

Toby was surprised, like everyone else, to discover that Konsult Dredek was behind all of the unsettling events. He had been even more surprised to hear the news from people outside of the Ryhain’s normal channels. Toby had grown accustomed to hearing all of his intelligence from spies and informants working for the Ryhain, but all had been disturbingly silent in recent months. The Ryhain’s circle of loyal subjects that fed him news and rumors alike was normally a hive of activity, but as of late there had only been a few reports a month. Toby was beginning to get impatient with the normal channels of information and more impressed with the progress that was being made by Osric and his companions.

Focused as he was, Toby hardly noticed the busy servants passing him in the halls on their respective errands. He was of one mind; he wanted answers. Toby rounded the last corner on his way to confront the leader he had served for years. He had always had a great respect for Ryhain Domnall, which is probably why he was so upset about the man’s recent performance of his duty. Toby thought back to how things were before the attack on the Ratification Ceremony and the destruction of the Stanton palace. Life had been so much simpler. He trusted and respected his superiors. Thoughts of treason and conspiracy had been far from his mind. He had been able to enjoy his job as Profice to the Stanton Contege, even when they promoted an inexperienced youth like Osric to the position. They had asked Toby to serve as Contege on many occasions, but he refused the position every time. Grasping for power was never his goal. He wanted only to serve his people and survive long enough to see his own grandchildren.

Toby shuddered at the thought of making the wish public knowledge, as he would be shunned and humiliated. Yet Toby could imagine no greater honor than to grow old surrounded by family and friends. The consequences of such dishonor would haunt him and his family for ages, but he truly wanted to have the simple things in life. He wanted the joy of bouncing a grandchild on his knee, not the power, not the prestige, and certainly not the responsibility and risk that came with an elevated position such as Contege.

Toby slowed his gait as he approached the door to the Ryhain’s quarters. He did not know what to expect, but he knocked softly. There was no answer, so he knocked again, louder.

A weak cough echoed in the room, and he entered cautiously watching for any sign of distress. He saw nothing; no movement, no light, and no sound. Pulling out his wand, he dimly lit the tip as to not disturb the Ryhain if he were sleeping. The morning sun was shining brightly, yet no light penetrated the heavy drapes drawn over the Ryhain’s windows. Irritation reared again in Toby that the Ryhain was still abed.

“Ryhain Domnall,” Toby spoke softly, “you sent for me?” Toby heard rough and ragged breaths coming from a bed to his right, filling him with concern. A quick flick of his wand, and every lamp, torch and candle in the room came alive with flame.

What he saw shocked him to his very core, and all remnants of anger fled at the sight. The room’s windows were layered in thick, black fabric that shut out all light. All signs of the normal maintenance that maids and servants carried out were absent. A chamber pot near the bed was overflowing, and rotten food, riddled with flies and maggots, lay scattered across the small table. Domnall lay in his bed, heavy quilts pulled up to his chin. His hair was stringy and dull, splayed out on the pillows in mockery of his once impeccable image. His skin was a pale gray, and his eyes were yellowed and sunken deep within their sockets. The stench of urine and stale sweat assaulted Toby’s nostrils, and he rushed to the side of the bed.

“Domnall?” Toby cringed at the obvious effort required for each of the Ryhain’s breaths. “What happened to you?” The frail old man coughed, and spittle flew from his shriveled lips as he fought to bring an arm out from under the blankets. When he managed, he crooked one finger and indicated he wanted Toby to come closer. Toby called out into the hallway for a healer and then approached the man’s bed. The sound that wheezed pathetically from the Ryhain when Toby leaned his ear closer was barely audible.

“I have been a fool.” Toby could hear Domnall’s lungs crackling as he forced air in and out of his chest. “I was arrogant and proud. I placed my own greed before the well-being of my people, and I shall pay for the mistake with my death.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was promised power and wealth, if I would only follow orders and bow down to my superior. I should have considered what it would lead to. I should have known that he was using me for his own aims.”

“Who was using you?” Toby tried to piece Domnall’s words into something he could make sense out of.

“I thought if I could just win him over and please him, he would fulfill all of his promises. I could have made our city the grandest in the realm. I could have saved them all.”

Toby grabbed the sick man’s shoulders and shook him gently, disturbed by the unfocused look in his eyes. “Domnall!” Toby lowered his voice as the man finally roused and made eye contact. “What are you talking about?” Toby released him quickly and took a step back as Ryhain Domnall began sobbing uncontrollably.

“He is evil, Toby.” He broke into a fit of laughter as he tried to hold back the wracking sobs. “He promised me so much, but I should have just died in the palace for what I have done.” Realization finally struck and Toby took several steps back from the man he had served loyally for half of his life.

“You knew.” The old man squeezed his eyes closed tightly, unable to acknowledge his sins aloud. “You knew what Dredek was doing. You knew about the recruits, and what they were being taken for, didn’t you?” Domnall nodded almost imperceptibly. “You knew what was happening at Braya?” Another nod. Toby glared down at a man he no longer felt he knew. His voice was cold and quiet as he addressed the sickly, tear streaked face of his superior. “Did you know about the attack on the Ratification Ceremony?” The man’s eyes went wide and he shook his head in denial as another fit of coughing stole over him. When the coughing quieted, he looked up at Toby with pleading eyes.

“He is evil. He has done things no man should ever be capable of doing. I should have killed him rather than acquiesce to him.” He coughed again and blood specks adorned his blankets. “You have no idea what he is capable of.”

“I think we have a good idea. He is willing to start a war for the pleasure of seeing thousands die!” Ryhain Domnall shook his head vehemently.

“If only that were his motivation, we could kill him and end it.” A much longer fit of coughing shook his frail body and he struggled to fill his lungs with air. “It is much worse than you think.”

“How can it be worse?” The old man’s lips were cast with a blue tinge, and he wheezed as he gasped for breath. “Domnall?” The Ryhain’s eyes were wide and frightened as he fought for air. Toby rushed into the hall, screaming for a healer. Distant footsteps echoed in the hallway, and finally the palace’s resident healer rounded the corner and hurried into the room. “Why hasn’t he been treated?”

“Sir, I wasn’t informed of his condition.” Toby was furious, but he realized that the Ryhain was riddled by guilt and it was possible he wanted to die. That would explain the state of his chamber as well. Perhaps Domnall had forbidden anyone to enter his rooms, hoping that he would succumb to his injuries and illness. Toby couldn’t blame him. If he had betrayed everyone who had ever trusted and depended on him, he would want to die as well.

Toby stood against the far wall as the healer attempted to ease the Ryhain’s illness, but it did not seem to be going well. After several moments of tense expectation, the healer stood and turned to Toby.

“Had I been notified yesterday, perhaps I could have saved him.” The healer held his hands out in apology for his failure. Toby nodded and turned to leave the room. “Wait,” Toby looked back, “he asked me to tell you something.”

“Well what is it?” Toby asked, hoping the Ryhain had divulged more information about Dredek that would serve them well against him.

“He asked for your forgiveness, and he said ‘he’s searching for water.’” Confusion flitted across Toby’s features, and he nodded at the healer.

“Thank you. I will inform the council that the Ryhain is dead.” Toby stepped out into the hall, puzzling over the cryptic message from a dying man’s lips.

*

“He is searching for water?” Osric questioned Toby as they walked to the gathering dressed in their finest clothes. Hundreds of people, and many different creatures of Stanton, were milling toward the palace grounds. All of Stanton’s inhabitants felt a great deal of sorrow over the loss of their leader, and many eyes glistened with tears. Osric and Toby could not allow themselves to be distracted from their search for answers, but they kept their voices quiet as they conversed.

“Those were his words,” Toby answered, “and he asked me to forgive him.”

“At least he gave us some information to use.” Osric studied Toby’s face as they walked. “What do you think it means?” he inquired.

“I have no idea.” Toby shrugged in frustration. “It was probably just the confused rattlings of a dying, old man.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I would like to get the input of Gus and Machai. Maybe we can come up with something if we all put our heads together.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Toby didn’t sound convinced. “And maybe I’ll forgive him for being a pawn of Konsult Dredek.” Osric smiled at the sarcastic remark.

“I never thought he would give up his honor for power. What do you think Dredek offered him?”

“Who knows? He mentioned power and wealth, but he seemed convinced that if Dredek had delivered on his promises it would have been good for the people of Stanton.”

“Sometimes one bad choice doesn’t seem so bad until it is too late. Maybe he had a string of choices that seemed reasonable?” Osric desperately wanted to give some semblance of reason to the betrayal of a man he had trusted.