Voice Of The Demon (Book 2) (4 page)

Osbert threw a glance over his shoulder to where Nash stood by the window. The young man had his hands resting either side of it, his face turned to the cool breeze as it drifted inside. He’d changed a lot over the last year as he’d grown closer to Selar and yet, despite that, Nash still seemed to hold his place within the Guilde as dear to him. After all,
with the patronage of the King behind him, Nash could afford to throw off Guilde colours and make his own way.

‘Well?’ Nash murmured. ‘What do you make of it?’

Osbert studied again the objects on the table in front of him. A small river-washed stone and the eagle signet of Finnlay Douglas. The stone was supposed to have some power, but Osbert hadn’t seen any. He only had the word of those woodsmen. But the ring?

‘What would you say if I told you I believe Finnlay Douglas is a sorcerer?’

Nash hardly moved. ‘Anything else?’

‘Then you agree?’

‘That is Finnlay Douglas’s ring there before you, isn’t it? You’ve met him. The description fits, doesn’t it? What else is there?’

Osbert pushed his chair back from the table and stood. ‘Well, legend has it that a sorcerer’s power comes from an amulet he carries around with him – such as this river stone. If that’s true, where did the prisoner find the power to escape when his guards had the stone?’

‘He could have had help.’

‘From whom? Or are you saying there are lots of sorcerers wandering around Lusara that we’ve never heard of before? Are you saying you believe the superstitions of a bunch of uneducated, backward woodcutters?’

Nash turned around at that, a brief frown marking his clear forehead. ‘No, not that. I just feel I should remind you that Lady Jennifer Ross told me she saw Finnlay drowned.’

Osbert shrugged. ‘She may have been mistaken. You said she’d never met Finnlay before. She has only Robert’s word that the body he took home was his brother’s.’

‘Then perhaps our next step should be to question him?’

Indeed it should. But what would Selar say? Hadn’t he told the Guilde to stay away from Robert? But surely this was different. This time it appeared the young Duke was really hiding something. ‘We’ll head south in the morning. I should think Dunlorn has arrived home by now – even with the floods. I doubt he’ll be expecting us so soon.’

‘And therefore, his excuses will not be fully prepared?’ Nash smiled, his dark eyes glinting in the lamplight.

Osbert studied Nash for a moment. Then he turned and walked across the room to pour himself a cup of the bitter white wine the inn had served him. It was barely drinkable. If he’d known this was the best they could do he would have brought a cask of better stuff with him from Marsay.

Nash was watching him, with that intense air he usually only applied to Selar.

Osbert took a sip of the wine, allowed it to burn down his throat before continuing, ‘Selar doesn’t trust you, you know. He’d like to, eventually, but he doesn’t trust you yet. You must learn to be patient.’

For the first time, there was a hint of conceit about Nash’s demeanour. ‘What do you know about it?’

Osbert had to smile. Skilled though Nash was at handling Selar, he seemed oblivious to others doing the same thing to him. ‘I hardly think you can afford to be so arrogant so soon, Nash. Your position may be high, but you’re not so high yet that you cannot fall equally quickly.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Nash frowned, left the window and folded his arms.

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m merely offering you my opinion. I’ve been at court for twenty years now. I’ve seen men come and go. Men just as capable as you. Selar has only ever trusted one man.’

‘Dunlorn. Yes, Selar told me.’

‘Did he tell you why he removed Dunlorn from the council?’

‘I’ve heard that he challenged the Guilde, that he defied the Proctor.’

‘Exactly. He allowed a rift to develop and never realized who held the real power in Lusara.’ Osbert took another mouthful of wine and laced his fingers together around the cup. ‘He allowed his pride to get in the way of his judgement.’

Nash laughed at this, strode across the room and helped himself to some wine. ‘And you accuse me of arrogance! I
thank you for your considered opinion, my lord, but I can’t help wondering why you offer it so freely.’

‘I should have thought that was obvious. When Vaughn goes, I want to take his place. I don’t need Selar’s help to get it – but I do want his support afterwards. I hope you’ll encourage him to give it. There are few people at court who can influence Selar’s opinion – you are one of them.’

For a second there was a brief fire in Nash’s eyes – one Osbert had never seen before. It couldn’t be from any undue loyalty to Vaughn. It had always been obvious to everyone that Nash thought the Proctor an idiot. It was an odd reaction, to say the least. Still, as long as Nash agreed to support him, it didn’t matter if the fires of hell raged in his eyes.

‘You have always had my support, my lord,’ Nash replied, his voice dropping to a companionable warmth. ‘I’ll help you all I can.’

Osbert smiled. ‘Good. Now I suggest you go and give our men their orders. I’ll want to leave for Dunlorn in the morning.’

‘Of course, Governor.’

*

It would have been impossible to have this meeting anywhere within the boundaries of Kilphedir. There were too many people who knew Nash, village folk who stared and moved out of his way as he walked along the street. The Guilde robes had always had that sort of effect, but now in the village the atmosphere of anticipation was almost palpable.

So he’d gone into the forest, beyond the lights of the village to a clearing dusted with moonlight. It was a good spot, wisely chosen. If only Pascoe had used the same sense.

‘I told you before!’ Nash snapped, glaring at the man opposite him. ‘I told you to stay away from there. You paid no notice and now I’ve lost an entire band of men. You’re a fool!’

Pascoe flinched and took a step backwards. He stopped up against a tree not far enough away from Nash’s anger. ‘I’m sorry, master. I warned you it might happen. I did say we needed more gold, otherwise our men might go looking for
real plunder. You know villages and farms don’t give up much in these hard times. Mostly these are just poor people with little to lose in the first place.’

‘I know that!’ Nash bellowed back. He took a few steps forward until he was dangerously close to the man under the tree. ‘These raids are supposed to hit the poor and undefended. That’s the whole point. You knew that when you began. So why, in the name of the gods, did you allow that band to get so close to Dunlorn? Don’t you know the Duke is an able soldier renowned for his loyalty to his people? Didn’t you stop to think for one minute that he might find some way to curtail the incursions on his lands? By Broleoch’s breath, Pascoe, Dunlorn is about the only man in this godforsaken country who would bother!’

‘I’m . . . sorry, master, I—’

Nash didn’t wait to hear any more. ‘The men are getting greedy, so if you want more money, you’ll have to earn it. Pass on the word to all the raiders – I want to know the moment Finnlay Douglas surfaces. I want to know where he is, where he’s going and who he is with. In the meantime, keep those men under control – and away from the likes of Dunlorn. Do you understand me?’

Nash paused as the forest behind him rustled. He turned to find Lisson emerging from the darkness.

‘Forgive me, master, but I have a message for you.’

‘A message? From Osbert?’

Lisson shook his head. ‘No, master. From the Baron DeMassey.’

DeMassey? Here? By the gods!

Nash took in a swift breath. ‘Pascoe? You have your orders. See to it I have no further trouble from your men or I’ll teach them a lesson myself!’

‘Yes, master.’

Nash waited until Pascoe had hurried away. He waited until all sight and sound of him had vanished into the night. He waited until his anger had abated, his thoughts cleared again. Only then did he turn back to Lisson.

‘Where is he?’

‘He awaits you in the churchyard, master. He is alone.’

‘The churchyard? How appropriate.’ Pulling himself together, Nash led Lisson through the forest until they reached the edge of the village. He sent Lisson ahead to stand watch, then strode down the empty street until he gained the low wall of the churchyard. Yes, there he was. Invisible to the naked eye, but easily sensed. DeMassey was taking too many chances.

‘I’m honoured you bothered to come,’ came a gentle voice from the darkness. ‘I understand you’re very busy these days. Running around after one King or another. Surely all this must make a man tired out.’

Nash stepped over the wall and joined DeMassey in the shadows of the church. ‘What do you want, Luc?’

There was a flash of white teeth in the darkness, a smile. ‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t need your help. I’ve told you that before.’

‘If you
needed
our help, I’m not sure I would offer it.’

‘And I don’t want it, either.’

DeMassey let out a low chuckle, moved a little closer until Nash could see that familiar, extraordinarily handsome face. ‘Are you sure, my old friend? I know you have your little coterie of helpers, but none of them can think for themselves – which I’m sure must be a real trial to you – not to mention your own fault. All that bonding must be a strain on you.’

‘And you think I want Malachi interference instead? We’ve been over this before, years ago. You know my conditions. Are you now saying your brethren have changed their minds? Felenor – or perhaps even Gilbert? Are they willing to follow me?’

DeMassey lifted his broad shoulders in a cumbersome shrug. ‘Follow, join, what’s the difference? What I want to know is whether you still think you can do all this on your own.’

Ah, suddenly it all fitted together. This midnight meeting, DeMassey’s sudden presence in this village – in the middle of nowhere. Nash should have seen it before.

‘I might have known you’d make an appearance at some point. Though I wonder you bothered to come yourself. A man of your stature and importance? The master of the
D’Azzir, himself? Don’t tell me – you heard a rumour about a sorcerer being held prisoner here and you thought you might like to take him in. Oh, come now, Luc. Did you really think you’d get here before me?’

‘Actually,’ DeMassey paused, his deep blue eyes catching a flash of moonlight, ‘I was already nearby. Gilbert was here, in Kilphedir, the night the sorcerer escaped. What do you make of that?’

‘So you did take him, then?’

‘Hardly!’ DeMassey laughed. ‘Do you really think I’d be standing here talking to you if I had in my hands one of the Salti Pazar? By the Key, no! I’d be tearing his heart out right now, with my bare hands.’

‘You’re assuming he is Salti. For all you know this man might be some innocent talent, caught by accident.’

‘Then he would have to be a very powerful innocent,’ DeMassey replied off-handedly. ‘One powerful enough to have you come charging down here from your cosy home in Marsay.’

Nash shook his head. ‘Then what do you want? I can’t stand here all night talking. If I don’t get back soon, I’ll be missed.’

DeMassey glanced around the pitch-black graveyard and back at Nash. The moon had moved enough now to endanger them both with its light. DeMassey, never the most discreet of men, wore a light summer cape of royal purple, a gold edging complementing his auburn hair. Even the white shirt underneath was of the finest cloth, embroidered on the collar and cuffs with a symbol only Malachi would understand.

Yes, he took great risks – but not without defence. DeMassey was probably the most powerful Malachi alive.

‘Well?’ Nash prompted. ‘I haven’t got all night.’

‘When is Valena coming back to us?’

Yes, the same question again. The Malachi never liked losing one of their own – much less one of their best. It was a good thing DeMassey didn’t know about the rebel Malachi killed on Dunlorn lands a month or more ago.

Nash shrugged. ‘It’s entirely up to Valena when she leaves
me. At the moment, she seems quite happy. I’m sure, however, that should she change her mind, she’ll go running back to you.’

For once, DeMassey lost his charm and met Nash’s gaze with one of ice. ‘What have you done with her? You haven’t turned her into one of your slaves, have you?’

It was Nash’s turn to smile. ‘How could I do something like that to one so beautiful?’

DeMassey drew his rich cape about his shoulders. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you after all these years, it’s that you would and could do anything you wanted in order to secure your so-called destiny. I just want you to know – on a personal basis – that if anything happens to Valena you’ll have to deal with me.’

Nash waited until DeMassey had walked far enough to satisfy his pride. Then he said, ‘She doesn’t miss you, you know. None of you. Most especially, she doesn’t miss you in her bed.’

DeMassey paused, turned around and favoured Nash with a deadly smile. ‘You just remember what I said.’ With that he disappeared into the night.

Damned cheek of the man, coming in here, trying to find out about this sorcerer! So what if Finnlay Douglas was Salti Pazar? Did DeMassey think he had a right to every Salti on the whole northern continent? The man was a fool – a blind fool at that!

What a night! First Osbert and his surprising request. Then Pascoe – and now DeMassey. What next?

With a sigh, Nash regained the street, collected Lisson and headed back to the tavern. The tap room was almost empty, with only the most hardened drinkers still lucid. They sat around the dwindling fire like a pack of drowned rats, staring at him as he crossed the room and headed up the stairs. They’d be relieved when the Guilde left their little village. There was no trust in those glances; only fear.

Nash would have gone straight to bed, but Osbert was waiting for him on the top landing.

‘I hope you’ve not been out wenching, Nash,’ he began
with a half-smile. ‘Vaughn won’t take kindly to that sort of behaviour.’

‘No, my lord,’ Nash replied, too tired for this kind of conversation. ‘I just went for a walk.’

‘Well, it’s a good thing I caught you. I’ve just received a courier from the King. It seems I’ll be going south alone. Selar wants you back at court. He wants a full report of everything we found.’