“Father disowned you,” Alyssa argued.
“No, he didn’t,” Melody said. “He never had to. I was dead, remember?”
It was true, of course. Alyssa knew her claim was stronger than her mother’s, especially since she was the one with a male heir … but if someone wanted to believe otherwise, if someone like John wanted to put the strength of his soldiers behind Maynard Gemcroft’s wife instead of his daughter …
“I’ll kill you,” she said. “You won’t take all I’ve built from me.”
“Only for safekeeping,” Melody said, and by the sound of her voice, she was coming around the bed, closer and closer. “For you and for Nathaniel. Someone needs to be strong. Someone needs to have conviction and make the decisions necessary to save our world from the coming storm. Don’t you understand? I care for your son’s legacy just as much as you, but unlike you, I won’t be blinded by fear. I won’t be lost to…”
Alyssa lunged with her dagger drawn, thrusting in the direction of Melody’s voice. The blade found resistance, followed by a scream, and it put a smile on Alyssa’s face.
“Alyssa, stop this!”
It was John’s firm voice. Alyssa ignored it, instead trying to thrust again. This time, she caught only air, and she slid off the bed, thrusting once more toward the sound of movement and crying. A hand caught her wrist, and another struck her across the face. The pressure tightened, and before she could fight it, the blade was yanked away.
“Enough,” John said. A thud at her feet told her he’d dropped the weapon, and now two strong hands held her wrists, keeping her trapped. She fought down the indignity of struggling and instead tilted her head so she could better listen to her mother’s tears.
“Is it fatal?” she asked, and by the way John sucked in a breath of air and tensed, she could tell he was stunned by the coldness of her voice.
“No,” Melody answered for her, and Alyssa’s heart sank. “Just a cut across my arm.”
“Damn,” she whispered.
“Alyssa, your wild behavior has gone on far enough,” John said. “I understand you have endured many trials, but I will not sit idly by while you let your depression and guilt bury the legacy of your father and endanger the future of your son.”
“Of course you won’t,” Alyssa said, and she laughed. “You’ll do exactly as Melody says, won’t you? Did she fuck you for it, John, or only offer promises?”
She couldn’t see him, but she hoped the older man’s face flushed a bright red.
“This will only be temporary,” John said, “until it’s clear to us you are in a right state of mind. Either that or Nathaniel is old enough, and mature enough, to handle the estate’s matters.”
“Send out a rider to look for Muzien, or a member of his guild,” Melody told John. “Tell them we’ll accept any reasonable terms he offers us. Do it quickly! As for Zusa…”
“My men are ready,” John said. “I do not trust her to take this well.”
Alyssa laughed, loud enough to ensure they turned her way.
“That is putting it lightly,” she said. “She’ll kill you both for this betrayal. There’ll be no stopping her.”
“We’ll see about that,” said John. “But until she acknowledges Melody’s right to rule, that woman is a danger to every single person in this home. Keeping her from you will be a challenge, but as much as it will pain me, I know of a place to keep you secure…”
The way he said it told her immediately where they would take her. She didn’t know if it made her want to scream or cry.
The wall of noise about her, of men grunting, armor creaking, convinced her at least ten men escorted her down the hall. Perhaps it was twenty, but their fear of Zusa was obvious. They took a turn, then another, and as she counted her steps, her fears were confirmed. They were taking her to the cells, the cold, drafty cells her father had thrown her into in an age past. Zusa had helped rescue her from them before … but could she do so again?
A heavy door opened, John barked an order, and then she was physically lifted into the air and carried down the stairs. It was pointless to resist, but she did so anyway.
They more tossed her into the cell than anything else, and she rolled along the cold, hard ground before coming to a stop at the far wall. A blanket followed, landing atop her leg. It was a painfully familiar act of kindness.
“I want ten men down here at all times,” John said. “And that door is never to be left unlocked or unwatched…”
His voice trailed off as he gave his orders. As the cell slammed shut, she heard her mother calling to her.
“I do this for you, Alyssa,” Melody said from the cell door. “To save you, to save us all. You’ll understand one day, my daughter, but I think we all need our moments of darkness first, to humble us and break us down. It’s been a long time since you were humbled. Consider this a needed first step toward the truth.”
Alyssa stood, fighting off a wave of pain from several new bruises. Slowly, and with eyelids wide to ensure her mother saw the torchlight reflecting off her artfully crafted glass eyes, she walked to the bars of her new prison.
“The darkness means nothing to me now,” she said, and she shoved the offered blanket back through the bars. “And it will take more than a cold draft to break me.”
“I endured nine years in a far worse dungeon,” Melody said. “I know what it takes to break a man or woman, and I assure you, I have the patience to wait that long if it will save your immortal soul.”
Alyssa pressed her face to the bars, entire body trembling with rage.
“Zusa will kill you,” she whispered.
Melody’s whisper back was full of venom, a hatred Alyssa had never heard before in her voice.
“Let her try.”
CHAPTER 20
The first thing Haern did when he awoke was turn to the side and vomit, his stomach unloading everything it had. Eyes closed, he endured the sensation of vertigo, knowing he might not have very long to react, and his life could still be on the line. The last thing he remembered … what was the last thing he …
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” said a deep voice. Haern snapped his eyes open. He was in a small cubical cell, with every wall but one made of solid stone. The open one was before him, and blocking the way was the older man with the silver lion upon his chest. His eyes were a cold gray, his voice deep and demanding obedience.
Haern tried to move from where he lay and found himself shackled. His wrists were bound together with manacles, as were his ankles. A chain connected the two, short enough so that he could not extend to his full height. His swords were gone, as were his cloak, his hood, his various daggers and blades he kept for emergencies hidden across his body, and his belt of tools to pick locks and disarm traps. Haern thought to attempt an escape anyway, but the room was small and dark, and the paladin still had his enormous sword. Dizzy and bound as he was, he had little hope for escape against a man with such skill and presence.
“I hope I wasn’t much of a bother,” Haern said. “Those books I burned, were they valuable?”
“Priceless beyond compare,” the paladin said, reaching down and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. With ease, he lifted Haern up and then flung him against the wall. Haern let out a gasp as his head hit, adding yet another wave of nausea to his already-unhappy stomach.
“Well, then,” Haern laughed, “good to know I’ll have left a mark.”
The dark paladin stood and crossed his arms. He didn’t seem angry, nor amused. Instead, he appeared … curious.
“My name is Carden,” he said. “High Enforcer of our mighty god’s paladins. Who might you be?”
Haern shrugged as best he could, given the chains and manacles. What did it matter if he gave a name?
“Haern,” he said. “At your service.”
Carden’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment.
“Well, then, Haern, would you care to tell me why you killed a priest that was under our care?”