Voice Of The Demon (Book 2) (31 page)

‘Mother!’ Robert whispered, shocked and saddened at the same time.

‘After the Guilde was here a change came over this place. I watched Deverin and Owen and they seemed to know what was going on. They seemed at ease. I wondered how men like that could follow you if you were involved with something so terrible.’

‘But I am.’

‘And then tonight? Robert, what has the Queen to do with this? With sorcery?’

‘Nothing directly. But it is only sorcery that has kept her free this long.’ Robert came across the room to stand before her. Carefully he reached up and brushed the moisture from her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Mother.’

She studied him with dark eyes glinting sapphire from the moon. Her gaze wide and open, he knew she was thinking about him and sorcery together for the first time. He’d seen
that look before on others. The effect was always unpredictable. And he’d been lying to her for so many years now, would she be able to forgive him?

‘How long?’ The words were dragged out of her, as though she would rather have remained silent. ‘How long have you been a sorcerer?’

Robert kept his tone mild. ‘Since birth. I found out just after I turned nine. I know it bothers you, Mother—’

‘Oh, Robert!’ Margaret put her cup down, clasped her hands together and turned her face back to the window. ‘Of course it bothers me. My own son—

‘Both your sons.’

She almost faltered at that. ‘Both . . . my sons tainted by an evil I can’t begin to imagine. Are you going to tell me the entire Church is wrong – but you are right?’

Robert took her arms and made her face him, trying to impress the truth upon her with the passion of his words. ‘Sorcery is
not
evil, Mother. It never has been. It’s merely a weapon evil people can use for their own gains. It can also be used for good. That’s all I’ve ever done. You’ve kept faith with me this long; I beg you, don’t turn your back on me now. Please trust me. Sorcery is not evil.’

‘Evil? How can you know? You can’t because you have it inside you.’ Her eyes searched his face for a long time, some shred of doubt edging her expression. ‘But . . . I never thought you were evil before I knew. I’ve never seen nor heard you act in any way that could be called evil. So . . . how can
you
be evil?’ She shook her head, unable to answer her own question. ‘Was the truth so hard to tell me?’

‘I was afraid you’d hate me. I didn’t want to hurt you.’

‘Oh, Robert. You’re my son. How could I possibly hate you?’ Margaret let her face relax into the motherly smile he loved so much. ‘We all get hurt in life. You don’t need to be strong enough for all of us.’

Robert sighed and pulled her close, setting the Seal in that moment. Her hair smelled like summer roses and reminded him of playing in the garden as a child.

‘Finnlay won’t be coming home, will he?’

‘Not with the way things are. It’ll be a miracle if there isn’t
some sort of Guilde hunt for sorcerers. You know their sacred duty.’

Nodding slowly, Margaret reached up and touched his face. ‘My sons, both sorcerers. How can it be possible? I’m sorry, Robert, but you must understand. This is going to take me some time and a lot of prayer.’

He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I know. You should get some rest. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.’

‘And you? Will you go to bed now?’

‘No, I must keep watch in here. I’ll sleep by the fire.’

Margaret smiled and pulled the door open.

‘You know, Mother, you won’t be able to tell anyone about this.’

‘Who would I tell?’

‘Your confessor.’

Margaret smiled wryly. ‘I see. Very well. Goodnight, Robert.’

‘Goodnight, Mother.’ The door closed softly behind her and Robert returned to his chair by the fire. He pulled another one up opposite and sank into one, brought his feet up on to the other. Half-stretched out, cramped and chilly, Robert laid his head back to sleep.

One woman convinced of the impossible. Another enacting the impossible. A third capable of anything she cared to imagine. All under the same roof.

What a nightmare!

*

The watch was restless tonight. Every sound, every movement was challenged. As they walked the walls below his window, Micah could see the whispered conversations, the lanterns moving, the wary glances. Did they suspect something was going on? Or perhaps Deverin warned them about the patrols – three had gone by already. It was only a matter of time before one decided to request entrance to Dunlorn.

Micah moved away from the window and back to his bed, where he sat, his back against the board, his knees up. He couldn’t sleep. Tonight his father had spoken to him – albeit from necessity – but he had spoken. And he had met Robert for the first time.

Nothing had changed. No one event would make his father embrace him back into the family, and if it hadn’t been for Jenn, there wouldn’t even have been this much.

But – there was a difference. He had come. He had spoken to Micah, and that meant that there was a degree of necessity that could force the issue. There was a way his father could be reached. It was possible!

Micah yawned, stretched his legs out and pulled the covers across. Only a sliver of moonlight escaped the window and shone across his feet. Wrapped in the blanket and the warmth of his thoughts, he finally drifted off to sleep.

*

Jenn woke with only the red glowing coals to light the room without windows. She laid on her makeshift bed for a few moments, listening to the breathing of the others around her. Exhausted and sick of travel and fear, they were all asleep in safety for the first time in two weeks.

She pulled back the blanket and stood, slipping on the fresh gown Margaret had given her. It fit well enough, though the hem was a bit long. Moving silently, she crept over to the fire and gently put another log over the coals, stirred them up a bit. Once the log had caught she turned around and headed to the panel door, pulled it open a crack.

The study was empty. Just moonlight through the windows and a yellow glow of fire to her left. Holding her breath, Jenn tiptoed forward and closed the door behind her. So this was the room Robert worked in. Where were his books? Put away probably, with all these strangers about. But where would he keep them? The chest under the window.

Her bare feet silent on the rich carpet, Jenn moved forward and stopped. Something in the corner of her eye. She turned her head. Robert! Asleep on a chair by the fire.

Careful to make no sound, she gained his side and sat on the floor by his head. From this angle, asleep, the hard lines had gone from his face. A strand of dark hair had fallen over his eyes, but she didn’t dare brush it away. Instead she just sat there and watched him.

This was the first time she had ever seen him look at
peace. What kind of life was his then, when the only moment he could truly relax was when he was asleep?

Now she could see his face, close up, he seemed so different to the man who had saved her from the Guilde that night in Shan Moss. Then, he’d been frightening, commanding and totally at ease with himself and the world. Or at least, that’s what it had looked like. But there had always been more, even back then. The things he would half-say – and not say at all. Now it was even worse. Now he wouldn’t even talk to her. And she had so many things she needed to say, to discuss with him. Things only he would understand. Everybody else, they just took her at her word. But Robert? He argued with her, caught the slips she made, pushed her to think properly. She’d only got this far because of him – and now, when she needed to talk to him so badly, he’d shut her out of his life completely.

And yet, this man was entirely responsible for everything she was now. He had saved her life, discovered her powers, taken her back to a father she’d never known. That life before seemed little more than a dream, a story told to her by another person, a tale like those she used to collect. Had it really ever happened? If he’d not found her in the forest, would she now be a travelling storyteller, delivering tales of this man, instead of keeping his secrets?

If only he would talk to her, smile at her, laugh with her. She could help him, she knew that. But he didn’t want her help. He just wanted to be left alone and not have this inconvenient reminder bothering him at every turn.

She sighed and sat back on her feet. The movement was quiet, but it was enough to wake Robert. His eyes opened and instantly focused on hers. He didn’t move.

Jenn’s heart began beating wildly. He would tell her off again. He would snap at her, make her feel like a fool, but . . . there was no malice in his gaze this time. Only a deep green well she could almost fall into. He said nothing. He just watched her as though he were looking at her for the first time.

Jenn swallowed with difficulty, willing her voice to work. She had to say something – anything. Being pinned by that
gaze was too much. ‘I was just thinking,’ she whispered, ‘of the stories I used to tell about the Earl of Dunlorn. The one I loved most was about a battle fought on the Sadlani border. Outnumbered and outmanoeuvred, your forces were stuck in a narrow valley, pressed further and further back. Then, just as your men were ready to turn and flee, you reared your horse and rode ahead in a charge. Renewed by your courage, your men followed, defeating the enemy and making you a hero.’

‘It was an accident,’ Robert murmured absently, his eyes still not leaving hers. ‘The horse bolted. I couldn’t stop it.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Her heart wouldn’t slow down. ‘I don’t believe you anyway.’

‘Why?’ Robert was gently self-mocking. ‘Because it’s just the kind of damn fool thing I’d do?’

Jenn wanted to smile, but the muscles in her face wouldn’t move. What had got into her? ‘You won the battle and beat the Sadlani back to their own land. That’s all that matters. Anything else is . . .’

‘The truth?’ Robert slowly reached out his hand to her face. For a second, he touched her cheek, softly, like a summer mist. Jenn froze, suddenly terrified. As though he sensed her fear, his touch changed and instead he gripped her face hard. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I . . .’ Jenn gasped and he let her go.

He swung his legs down from the chair and stood up. ‘You shouldn’t be here. You know that. You didn’t have to help Rosalind yourself. Those two men of yours are capable enough. You didn’t have to risk your own life – even to save a Queen.’

‘You would have done no less.’ Jenn sucked in air, her fear abruptly crystallizing into anger. She scrambled to her feet. ‘You have done no less.’

‘But I’m a soldier, Jenn. You’re supposed to be a lady!’ Robert turned away to the fireplace. He reached up and put his hands on the hearthstone, dropped his head. ‘You’ll leave tomorrow night after sundown. Micah will go with you and make sure you go home.’

‘And what about the Queen?’

‘I’ll get her out of the country. I said I’d help, didn’t I? After all, you gave me no choice.’

Jenn was about to snap at that, but paused. Was that it? Was that why he was being so cruel?

‘I’m sorry, Robert.’

His eyes glinted pale in the moonlight. ‘Sorry? For what? For forcing me to break my oath to the King? Oh, don’t worry about that. After all, I only let my uncle die because of it. I’ve only let Selar rip this country to shreds because I made a vow not to stand against him. No, it’s nothing really. Nothing for you to worry about.’

He left the fireplace then, strode the length of the table to where a jug stood. He filled a cup with wine and downed the lot in one mouthful. ‘I want you out of Dunlorn tomorrow night. Gone. Do you hear me?’

Jenn didn’t say anything. A voice inside her told her she should be angry, but she didn’t listen. Instead, she opened her eyes properly, her senses – and saw the thing she’d seen once before. Back at Elita. It was still there, inside him, eating away at him. Only now it was much bigger, much stronger and much worse. A blackness, evil and devouring. Did he still not see it? Not realize what it was doing to him?

She swallowed and kept her voice soft, unwilling to provoke him further. ‘What happened in Marsay? Did you find Ayn?’

‘Ayn’s dead. I couldn’t save her.’ The words fell like rocks into the room, echoed around the fine-carved panelling.

‘I’m sorry.’

Robert looked up at that. ‘So am I. I killed her. She asked me for Convocation and I couldn’t refuse.’

Jenn moved along the table until she stood beside him. ‘I
am
sorry, Robert. I know what she meant to you.’

‘There was somebody with her, guarding her. Another of your abducted fellows.’

‘Who?’

‘Keith Campbell.’ Robert’s voice was low and bitter, only now it wasn’t directed at her but at himself.

‘Where is he now?’

‘In heaven, I hope. I killed him, too. A successful day all in all.’

‘Oh, Robert, please don’t do this.’ Jenn reached for his hand, but he moved away.

‘If you think about it, I could have saved a good twenty lives by never coming back to Lusara. Funny, isn’t it? So many people look at me and see hope. It just shows you how blind they are.’

‘Stop it!’ Jenn moved forward again and this time made sure she caught his hand. He could have pulled away, but didn’t. After a moment, he spoke again, but the bitterness was gone. There was just a quiet calm about him – the kind of calm in the middle of a storm. Jenn’s stomach turned over.

‘Can you see the pattern?’ he murmured as her hand began to tremble in his. ‘The abductions? You, Keith Campbell, McGlashen’s nephew. Keith had powers, too. All children of the great Houses, with powers as though there was something special about them, something different. And Valena was a part of it. Ayn spoke about a demon who’d captured her, tortured her. The evil presence you sensed in the spring. A demon. Ayn said that I’m his enemy, Jenny. What does that make you? His ally? Why did he just leave you in Shan Moss to fend for yourself? He must have known about your abilities. About all of you. I think that’s why you were all taken in the first place. He was looking for you in particular. He must have known you would be his ally.’

‘Then,’ Jenn whispered, breathless, ‘he would have known you were his enemy. Except that . . . you’re older than me – older than all of us taken . . . so . . .’