Treason Keep

Cratyn frowned. “A commoner?”

“He may be a commoner, your Highness, but he’s about the smartest man I’ve ever met. And the most ruthless. I trust him completely. I believe you’ll find him eminently qualified for the position.”

“And the demon child?”

“She is here. I’ll have her brought to you if you wish, although if she truly is destined for great things, I can’t see it in her myself. But who are we to question our God, eh?”

“Send for her.”

Terbolt nodded and went to the entrance. He pushed back the tent flap and issued the order then returned to his wine.

“You’ve not told me what brings you out here, your Highness.”

“Adrina has been kidnapped by the Hythrun. They left the border just before Jenga surrendered.”

Terbolt looked genuinely horrified. “Gods! How did they get across the border? Wasn’t she guarded?”

“I believe my wife may have... contributed... to her own capture,” Cratyn said cautiously. He did not want to admit to Lord Terbolt that she had run away.

The duke frowned. “I was never happy with this arrangement, Cratyn. You know that. I would far rather you had married my daughter.”

“And I would much rather have married Chastity, my Lord.”

“There’s not much we can do about it now, I suppose,” Terbolt said with a sigh.

“Not much.” Cratyn sipped his wine and studied the duke over the rim of his cup. “Unless of course, something were to happen to my wife.”

“Your Highness?”

“She has been kidnapped by the Hythrun, after all. You know what barbarians they are. They might do anything. For that matter, they may even kill her.” He had heard Cratyn express the same sentiment to Drendyn, but never so coldly, so calmly.

“That would be a great shame,” Terbolt agreed, with the same, bland expression. If Mikel had not heard it for himself, he would not have believed the duke could agree to such a thing so easily. “Are you sure they came this way? We’ve seen no sign of them.”

Before Cratyn could answer the tent flap was thrown open and a Defender stepped inside. He saluted sharply before speaking.

“R’shiel is not in her tent, my Lord. If you would tell me where she has been moved, I will have her brought here immediately.”

“What do you mean she’s not in her tent?”

“She was moved a short time ago, sir. The captain who collected her said that it was at your request. I thought perhaps —”

“I gave no such orders! Who was the captain?”

“I don’t know, sir. The troopers on duty didn’t recognise him.”

Cratyn leapt to his feet, knocking over the chair in his haste. “It was Tarja Tenragan! I’d stake my life on it!”

“I don’t see how —”

“He was with them! Don’t you see? That’s why we’ve found no sign of the Hythrun. They’ve been hiding, waiting for their chance to rescue the demon child. Who else could it be?”

Terbolt thought about it for less then a minute. “How long ago did they take her, Captain?”

“A quarter of an hour, perhaps, my Lord, no more.”

“Then they’ll still be in the camp somewhere. Rouse your men, Captain! We have intruders among us. R’shiel must not be allowed to escape. And I want Tarja Tenragan. I don’t particularly care whether he’s dead or alive.”

The Defender saluted sharply enough, but it was clear, even to Mikel, that he did not care for his orders. Cratyn was pacing the tent impatiently. As soon as the Medalonian had left, he turned to Terbolt.

“If Tarja is here, then Wolfblade is out there somewhere too. And that means Adrina is with them.”

Terbolt nodded and reached for his sword. “Then the hunting should be good tonight. Tarja Tenragan’s head will make an excellent trophy.”

“You can mount it over the gates of Yarnarrow Castle,” Cratyn agreed with bloodthirsty enthusiasm. “Right next to that bitch Adrina’s.”

Chapter 62

As R’shiel’s days blurred into each other, she knew they were getting closer and closer to Karien. Every day took her nearer to the decision she realised she would soon have to make. The decision that might cost her her life.

Xaphista spoke to her often, coaxing one minute, taunting the next. As they neared the border his attempts to win her over developed an edge of desperation which R’shiel found inexplicable. They were nearing the place where he was strongest. If anything, she thought he might have begun to relax.

She was led to her tent once the camp was set up, and went inside without complaint. The priests left her alone now. Even Terbolt showed no interest in her. She was simply the package that he was escorting north. He had no interest in social intercourse, even assuming that R’shiel would have responded to it.

Loneliness can destroy the soul, R’shiel.

How can I be lonely with you filling my head, day and night?

I would be a good friend, demon child. I would never allow you to be lonely.

You need to study humans a bit more, Xaphista. Promising that you’ll never leave me alone is hardly a pleasant thought.

Is it pleasure you seek? I can give you more pleasure than you could possibly imagine.

You don’t understand pleasure.

Then you shall teach me to understand. Tell me what you want and I will learn.

Why are you so desperate?

Why are you so stubborn?

When R’shiel refused to answer, he went away.

Later that evening, after her barely touched meal had been removed by a silent priest, she lay on her pallet and pondered her fate consciously for the first time since her capture.

Her chances of rescue were remote. Brak would have come to her already if he could. The demons were linked to her power and she could not call them without invoking the pain of the collar. Tarja was on the border, probably already in the custody of the Kariens and awaiting execution. Damin Wolfblade was either a prisoner of the Kariens himself or fleeing for Hythria. The Harshini would not bestir themselves from Sanctuary with so many Karien priests abroad and the Primal gods... well, if Xaphista were to be believed, it was their fault she was in this mess in the first place.

As she ran through the list of those who might come to her aid, she realised that she was truly on her own. If she was to be saved – if she wanted to be saved – she was going to have to do something about it herself.

The Harshini power that made her what she was lurked tantalisingly out of reach. She knew it was there; could feel it beckoning, but the pain that barred her way was stronger than any wall. The only way to access it was to get rid of the collar, and Xaphista would not allow that to happen until he was certain that she was completely and utterly his. There was no point in pretending. He was a god. He could see into her soul. If he willingly removed the collar, it would be because he knew that she was no longer a threat to him.

Escape that way was no escape at all.