The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1) (21 page)

Ishar eyed
him with resentment.
“Such as?”
She asked with
clenched teeth.

Lysandr
stepped close. “Such as,” he muttered tightly, “what your explanation will be
to Varyk concerning how several of your arrows wound up in Eira.”

“I have told
you. I did not do this? Someone must have taken them from my room.”

For the first time, Ishar shivered at the animosity
she saw burning in Lysandr’s eyes. She wondered if Rayne or Kagon were the only
Raanans from whom she should fear retaliation as she watched a veil drop from
before Lysandr’s face.

He reached up with his hand and shoved her against
the wall. Lysandr sneered. “You would have us believe the attacker comes from
within our own midst? Who else could have gotten hold of one of your arrows?”
Lysandr’s hand crept up until it closed around her throat. “Perhaps Rayne is
right and I should kill you now before you sow enough discord among us that we
shed our own blood in the growing confusion.” He stared at her, perplexed, as
if trying to understand a riddle set before him. “Why are you here, Haaldyn?
What are your intentions?”

Ishar
stiffened. “My intentions,” she stated firmly, “have not changed. Peace and a
unified Alsaar. You are correct though, Lysandr. There is someone who is trying
their best to see that this does not occur.” She nodded sadly. “And you are
helping them by these actions.”

Lysandr
laughed but there was no joy in it. He stared at her incredulously and stepped
back. “Do you have a clue what would have happened if I had let you go, let you
freely walk among the people of your own free will?” Lysandr shook his head.
“You would be dead before the afternoon was over, before night had a chance to
fall.” He waved a hand. “Whether it was Kagon, Rayne, or a large group, someone
would have seen to your death. There is too much love for Eira here.” He gave
another bitter laugh. “I have actually saved your life by bringing you here,
inside.” Lysandr turned and made his way to the door. “Hopefully Varyk will be
able to deal with this soon. However, even if he does allow your freedom, if no
sure assailant is found and brought to justice, this may well finish whatever
peace you were trying to bring about. No one will accuse their neighbor, which
will only leave fingers pointed directly at the Haaldyn.” He paused, his hand
motioning the servant back through the entrance. “For what it is worth, I am
sorry it has come to this, Ishar. I truly had hoped for the words you spoke
when you came to be true.” Lysandr moved out behind the servant.

The door shut
with a clang. Ishar heard the key turn in the lock. He did not believe she was
innocent. Ishar felt with her hand for the wall. When she found it, she settled
on the floor and leaned back. Ishar hugged her legs and placed her head on her
knees. Depression settled on her as quickly as the darkness.

*

Lysandr
turned the key in the lock and hung the ring on the wall. He turned, and
paused. The flickering light from the candle illuminated the presence of
Traevyn who stood waiting in the dark hallway. Lysandr’s gray eyes narrowed. He
motioned to the servant. “Return to your work,” he ordered. The servant bowed,
handed over the light and moved past them down the hall. Lysandr set the light
on a jutting piece of stone and faced Traevyn. “What are you doing here?”

“You think
she is guilty,” Traevyn accused. “I heard your words.”

Lysandr
raised an eyebrow. “You are not so certain yourself that she is innocent of
this charge.”

Traevyn’s jaw
tightened. He shook his head. “I cannot believe it of her.”

Lysandr moved
closer. “Does your mind tell you that or your heart?” he murmured softly.

Traevyn’s
expression narrowed mutinously. “You go too far, Lysandr.”
“I go too far?” Lysandr stated
incredulously. “Your attentions toward Ishar have been noted by more people
than I. I do not think you are able to make a sound decision concerning her
future. Rayne was right. She does divide us. The judgment we now have to make,
has it been done purposely?” He shrugged. “I am not certain you can do that,
Traevyn.”

Traevyn
glared. “I have fought beside you through these years and never given you
opportunity to doubt my honor toward Varyk or any of you.” He slid close enough
that both men now stood eye to eye. “Why do you start now, brother?” Traevyn’s
voice shook with anger.

Lysandr
looked aside. “I will not argue with you.” He glanced back, his speech
insistent as he continued, “I speak so you will know if you go around so easily
proclaiming her innocence when what information we have points to her guilt,
you will find yourself at odds with the other men and the people of this
holding.”

“It does not
make sense,” Traevyn muttered. “I have seen the evidence, but how can it be
true? Ishar has worked so hard at bringing a message of peace and a united
Alsaar. Why would she do this?”

“Maybe so we
would be at odds with one another,” Lysandr stated with a shrug. “I do not
know. You see her earnest desire for peace. I question that it is planned
action on her part, and you, the fool taken in by her allure?” Lysandr shook
his head. “You would rather me believe that someone from this holding is set
upon our destruction? Such talk will only lead to mayhem. I will not let that
happen,” he said with determination.

Traevyn
stepped back and leaned against the wall. He cast a frustrated gaze at Lysandr.
“What will happen to her?”

“I spoke the
truth outside. I will let Varyk decide her fate,” Lysandr answered.

“And what is
to keep her safe from those minded like Kagon or Rayne? How do we protect her
against their wrath?” Traevyn asked.

“By placing
her where I have,” was Lysandr’s reply. “Allowing her continued freedom would
have jeopardized her life even more.”

Traevyn
shoved his fingers into his hair. “And now you have trapped her in a place with
no paths out but one. It might make her easy pickings for a killer if there is
truth in the speech she gave you.”

“She has yet
to prove to me that there is,” Lysandr said shortly. “But by all means,” he
added with a touch of irony, “Find this person, give me the evidence I need to
set her free or provide protection. As to the other people in this holding or
the men, none will dare go against the word I have given. It can only be broken
by Varyk and even I will abide by his choice and words.” Lysandr picked up the
candle and motioned. “After you,” he said shortly.

Traevyn
hesitated. “Can I see her?”

Lysandr shook
his head. “From this moment on, only the servant who brings her food will be
allowed to enter. The only exception will be when Varyk comes to question her.
Besides that, no one else may enter.” Lysandr stood in the hallway watching
Traevyn and waiting.

Traevyn
glanced one more time at the door. His jaw tightened, but then he turned slowly
and moved down the hall. Lysandr followed.

*

It amazed
Ishar how quickly time slipped away. Without windows to see the passing of day,
time became indeterminate and with no candle to light her surroundings, the
rustles and squeaks moving about her presence unnerved her. She had spent many
a night in an adverse location while out scouting against the Lute with her
warband, but never as a prisoner and she found it an undesirable alternative.
Ishar rubbed her free hand over her face and tried not to think about what
might be moving next to her on the cold stone floor. The rattle of the chain
was a constant reminder that she could not even move about the room freely. She
judged it had at least been some time since Lysandr had put her within these
confines.

Desiring
other thoughts to dwell on, Ishar turned her mind to the evidence that had
placed her here. Apparently Eira had ridden out of the holding during the day
some time after Ishar had left. And along the way she had been attacked and hit
with two arrows.
Two Haaldyn arrows.
More to the
point, two arrows that were personally hers, Ishar thought with a groan. They
could have been taken at any time. She always kept her arrows in her room with
her other weapons when she had no use for them, but there had been several
times when she had set her arrows and bow down to study other soldiers after a
practice. It would have only taken a few spare seconds for someone to remove
arrows and walk away. And any number of people could have entered within the
fortress walls to gain entrance to her room and personal effects. Eira had no
need for wariness.

Thinking of the Lute woman, Ishar was grateful Eira
had managed to make it back to the holding. She wondered if that had been
intentional on the part of the assailant or a loose end. Whoever Eira’s
attacker was, they were crafty enough to throw blame where it would do the most
harm. The question that remained was simple: was Eira the main victim of this
attack or had she been used simply to undermine the peace Ishar had been sent
to initiate?

There was a
clunk and the metal lock in the door turned. The heavy wood creaked opened and
a glowing candle preceded the woman who entered. For a second the brightness
blinded her and Ishar blinked painfully against the harsh light. When her
vision cleared a moment later it was to see Isla, who cast a vicious smile in
her direction. She held a tray with a cup and a plate of what looked like
bread. Ishar felt her stomach respond to the sight. Her mouth salivated at the
thought of any liquid for her dry throat.

Isla watched
her a moment before she spoke. “Now this is a fitting sight: a Haaldyn in her
rightful place, chained and in the dirt.” She leaned over and spat in Ishar’s
direction, “Though Rayne and Kagon were right. It would have been better to
slit your throat for what you did to my Lady Eira.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Still, I look forward to seeing them drag you from this place and hanged from
the walls so your Haaldyns may see what happens to those who intend us harm.”
Isla chuckled maliciously. “There is already talk of it, you know. I would not
get too comfortable. I feel your stay with us is close to an end.”

Ishar had
held her tongue for as long as she could. “I am not Eira’s attacker, no matter
what you may think,” she said in anger. “There is another out there who is at
this moment gloating over what they have achieved and it is not me,” Ishar
insisted. “I would never have harmed your lady.”

Isla’s eyes
were cold. “Tell your lies to someone who will believe them. I am not that
person.” Isla took the cup from the tray and held it out to Ishar. Ishar rose,
but before she could reach for it, Isla dumped the contents out. The liquid
splattered across the stone floors. Isla’s expression never wavered. “What a
shame,” she murmured softly. She placed the cup upon the tray and set it on the
stone floor, “Your meal.” The plate contained only a large torn piece of bread.
Ishar looked down where the food was set near Isla’s feet. Before she could
react, Isla reached out and kicked the tray. The bread scattered into two
pieces and rolled across the stone floor. Isla gave Ishar a derisive stare.
“Enjoy your food.” She looked around with a studied glance, “If the rats do not
get to it first.” Without another word, she went out. The door slammed shut and
Ishar heard the lock turn.

The room was
plunged into darkness. The little witch, Ishar thought vindictively. She sighed,
tired and frustrated. Suddenly the thought of eating diminished. Still, it was
sustenance. Ishar knelt and fanned her hands out in the direction she
envisioned the bread had fallen. Her fingers ran atop stone. She continued to
spread out till the shackle on her left hand stopped her. Ishar reached out
with her right hand and felt as far as she could. Her fingers felt a crust of
bread only a second before she brushed across fur. Ishar snapped her hand back
with a jerk. The last thing she needed was a bite to add to her worries. The
desire to eat the bread died. Though still hungry, Ishar crawled back to the
wall and hugged her legs. When she stilled, she could hear the movement of the
rats eating her food. Her stomach growled in response.

She tried to
think of possible adversaries but quickly lost track of time. Exhaustion crept
over and so she slept, curled tight for warmth against the cold damp of the
room. The slightest noise or brush of a rodent against her body brought her
awake and up on her elbows as she listened with wariness to her surroundings.
She feared what the next opening of the door would bring. This was not the way
that Ishar had envisioned her death, alone without her warband, defenseless, a
prisoner at the whims of her captors. After a while, she simply stayed awake,
nodding off for small moments of time.

The creak of
the door unlocking brought her awake. Ishar sat up and looked at the light
entering the room with painful blinking eyes. She groaned inwardly at the sight
of Isla who shined her light into the room. Ishar looked around. There was no
sign of her bread. She glanced back. Isla laughed. “Did you share your food
last night, Haaldyn? Were the
rats
good company?”

Ishar bit her
tongue to keep from lashing out. She eyed the tray held in the other woman’s
hands.

Isla took
note of her interest and smiled. It was not nice. She took the tray and set it
on the ground. Ishar waited for her to kick it but Isla, to her surprise, did
not. She just sat the candle down beside the tray. It illuminated the bowl of
porridge and drink. Isla glanced up. “I am afraid the day will be busy. The
noon meal may be late,” she stated innocently. “Until later,” Isla added with
an exaggerated bow. The Britai woman gathered the tray from the night before
and stepped out. She shut the door firmly and Ishar heard the lock turn.