She stepped closer, and Gregane followed. The light of his torch bathed over Darius, and for the first time she saw his blackened hand and gasped.
“You bear the mark,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.
“I know.”
“The black hand… that is not given lightly. Save your lies. Nothing you say can disprove the truth of Karak burned into your flesh.”
Darius fell silent, and she waited for an answer. He offered none. Turning, she glared at Sebastian.
“You play dangerous games,” she said, “daring to interfere with the will of Karak. I’ll do as you ask, this one time, only because even in Mordeina we hear of your reputation as a faithful servant. But do not test me, and do not dare betray me.”
“Is that a threat?” Gregane asked, but Sebastian only smiled.
“Of course, milady,” he said. “Now let us return to the light.”
When they reentered the throne room, a knight stood beside Claire, looking angry and impatient.
“Lord Hemman, if I could have a word,” he said, but Sebastian cut him off.
“Show respect, Sir Mark. I have guests not yet dismissed. Speak out of turn again, and I will have your tongue.”
The knight looked flustered but obeyed.
“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Sebastian asked as Valessa joined Claire’s side.
“We should begin our ride,” Claire said. “The Castle of Caves will take us time to reach, even on horseback. Until we meet again.”
Neither bowed as they left.
“Is Darius there and alive?” Claire asked as they exited the outer gate.
“He is.”
“Did you speak with him?”
“I did. He bears the mark of the abandoned, Claire. It covers his entire hand. Never have I seen one so hated by Karak.”
Claire nodded.
“Then it will be good to get this business done, and execute such a faithless traitor.”
Valessa frowned at the word faithless. So strange. She heard the desperate faith in Darius’s voice. No one was as skilled a liar as that, to put on such a performance. She didn’t want to imagine the turmoil that must be within his soul.
“The sooner, the better,” Valessa agreed, wishing to think no more on the matter.
*
“T he women are dangerous,” Gregane said when the gray sisters were gone. “Perhaps it would have been better to hand over the paladin now.”
“Even the faithful are willing to make deals to reach their ends,” Sebastian said, waving dismissively. “I captured Darius, not them, and I will consider this my reward. Arthur’s been a thorn in my side long enough.”
He glanced over to where Sir Mark waited, hands behind his back and his head bowed.
“What is it?” he asked, annoyed.
“The people of Stonahm,” the knight began. “They’ve rebelled against your rule.”
Sebastian poured himself a cup of wine and sipped it. He felt his veins turn to ice as the words sank in.
“How so?” he asked at last.
“I’d come for tithes, but instead of handing them over, one of their men assaulted me when my back was turned. I was beaten, and sent away with orders never to return.”
“You were there for tithes, and just tithes, I assume?”
“Of course, milord.”
Sebastian hurled the glass, which shattered against the knight’s breastplate. The wine splashed across the armor, staining it purple.
“Do not treat me like an idiot, Mark. You mistook tits for tithes again, didn’t you? Get out of my sight.”
Sir Mark flushed and, still dripping, turned and exited the room. Sebastian sat back in his chair and snapped his fingers. A servant lurking behind a curtain heard, and he quickly came with another glass.
“What must be done?” Gregane asked.
“I have Arthur harassing me from his castle, Kaide from the forest. One I can’t get to, and the other I can’t find. This will not go on. If the peasants think, for even a moment, they can get away with challenging my authority, a full-blown revolt will not be far behind.”
“Give me a hundred men,” Gregane said. “I will teach them a lesson the whole North will talk about.”
Sebastian accepted the cup from the servant, and filled it with more wine.
“To Stonahm,” he said before downing it. “Go put fear into the heart of the North.”
8
Jerico had wondered how he’d find his way back to Kaide’s hideout, but his worries were unfounded. Reaching the forest was easy enough, the path simple and often traveled. At the edge of the trees, he set up camp and slept, making sure his fire burned long and with plenty of smoke. When he awoke the next morning, his horse was gone.
“Huh?” he grunted, realizing the absence. He hadn’t been alerted by Ashhur to any danger, so he assumed it was members of Kaide’s band. His supplies lay beside him, and he prepared his morning meal while the few remaining birds sang in the bare treetops. After awhile, he sensed eyes watching him, and he grinned.
“You’ve taken my horse,” he called out. “The least you could have done was take me with him.”
A pause, and then the bandit stepped out from hiding. He was hardly the thief he expected.
“Ricky?” Jerico asked.
The boy nodded. He stood erect, as if willing himself to appear taller, more mature.
“I had to make sure you was you,” he said.
“Well, I am I,” Jerico said. “Care to lead me back to camp?”
Ricky gestured, and Jerico slung his pack across a shoulder and followed.
“No one thought you was coming back,” Ricky said. “But they left me here just in case you did. They’re all killing soldiers, so no one could stay and watch.”
“Killing soldiers?” Jerico asked, ducking underneath a low branch. They followed no path, just pushed through the brush and leaves deeper and deeper into the woods.
“Don’t think you can get me to talk,” he said. “I’m smarter than that.”
“Of course, I certainly don’t mean to offend.” Jerico gave him a moment to cool off, then continued. “Beth’s fine, by the way. I don’t know if anyone told you.”
“Kaide told me.”
Ricky shot a glance behind him, and for a moment he looked like the young, indecisive kid he was.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Did it for her, not you, but you’re welcome anyway.”
The camp was silent as they entered, empty as Ricky had said.
“Where are they?” Jerico asked. “If they’re fighting, perhaps I can help.”
Ricky grew flustered.
“Too far to walk, and you couldn’t even if you wanted to.”
The door to one of the cabins opened, and it turned out the camp wasn’t completely empty.
“Our hero returns,” Sandra said, and she laughed at Jerico’s over-exaggerated bow.
“I could never stay away from you for long,” he said, shooting her a wink. Ricky rolled his eyes, then yawned long and loud. Jerico remembered the boy had stolen his horse during the night, as well as how far the walk had been from there to the forest’s edge.
“Have you been up all night?” he asked.
“Kaide says sometimes men have to go days without sleep.”
“And sometimes men go days without food or water, but it doesn’t help them none. Go to sleep, Ricky. I didn’t come all this way just to run off again. Besides, Sandra’s here. She’ll stab me if I try anything.”
Ricky relented, casting one last watchful eye on the two of them before vanishing into his cabin.
“I’m not sure I feel safe around you alone,” Sandra said.
Jerico opened the door to his own little hut and tossed his supplies inside.
“Don’t worry too much. With this limp, I doubt I could catch a crone.”
“Catch me? I wouldn’t run, paladin. I’d knock you flat and crush your testicles for the attempt. And you don’t want to imagine what Kaide would do afterward.”
“Would he make me tonight’s supper?”
Sandra laughed, but the laugh died when he limped toward the stable.
“Your leg,” she said. “Does it hurt much?”