Cara's Twelve (20 page)

Tahdaon laughed out loud at her comment.

“That's funny to you?'

“Trust me Cara, you've known plenty.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “”Like who?”

“Your precious Lord Herron, for one,” he said.

“He is not!” Cara exclaimed.

“No?” He lifted an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Have you ever seen him with a woman? Or even look lustfully at one? No, I didn't think so.”

Cara shook her head in denial, but as she thought about it, the more Tahdaon's words made sense. Herron had never really been interested in girls, but Cara had always assumed that it was because he was so busy with his responsibilities as Viceroy.

“Herron? Really?”

He shrugged, and turned to leave.

“Tahdaon,” she said, stopping him. She was glad that he had found her. There were more pertinent things to discuss than Wesley's sexual orientation. She needed to make sure that he was not in any danger.

He turned around, with a frown creasing his brows as he looked at her. It amazed her how quickly he could shield his emotions.

“Do you feel safe among the men?”

“Why?” he asked, as his eyes watched her, gauging her reaction.

“It's probably nothing,” she answered, picking at a loose thread on her dress. “Lady Hadlee said something at dinner that didn't sit well. I just wanted to make sure that no one feels threatened.”

The corner of his lips drew up in a sneer, and he stalked towards her. “Has someone threatened
you
?”

He gazed down at her, his eyes blazing like sapphires. She sucked in a breath at his closeness, and her mouth went dry. It took her a moment before she could catch her breath and respond.

“No, no,” she stuttered. “I was just worried about you.”

For a full minute he looked at her before he responded, and for a brief instant she saw something almost akin to regret surface in his eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you would tell me if someone threatened you, or if you thought someone was conspiring against you?”

His gaze was steady and unflinching. “Would you tell me if someone threatened you?”

Fair point, she thought. She still hadn't said anything to anyone about Edmund's threats. But she didn't want them to worry over nothing. The last thing she wanted was to be the cause of any conflict among the men. Especially now, if what Lady Hadlee had said was true.

She shrugged and looked down at the floor. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. Not even Tahdaon's pride and anger would keep him from harm if the men conspired against each other.

He grabbed her arm. “If you won't trust me with whatever you're hiding, then tell Finn or Helfrich. We can't protect you if we don't know what we are fighting against.”

She wasn't sure how he had turned her question around on her, and she let out a frustrated breath. “Spoken from the master secret keeper himself.”

The look he gave her made her cringe. Tahdaon wasn't one to be teased or challenged, and if he hadn't held her by the arms, she would have taken a step backwards.

“I'm going to check on Batch,” she said, changing the subject, and prying his fingers from her arm. “I haven't seen him since we arrived, and I'm worried that he might be sick again.”

“I'll go with you,” he said, his frown deepening. “I've been meaning to talk to him about something that happened while we were on the road.”

Cara gave him a skeptical look, but didn't argue.

As they made their way towards Batch's assigned chambers, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was wrong, she was sure of it. She had had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach since supper, and it was more than just Lady Hadlee's words.

Cara knocked on Batch's door, one, twice, and still there was no answer.

“He wasn't at dinner,” she said quietly, a premonition warning her to walk away. “He should be in his room.”

Tahdaon banged on the door. “Batch, it's Tahdaon and Cara. Can we come in?”

Silence echoed on the other side of the door.

“Open it,” Cara said, trying to consume the lump of fear that was lodged in her throat.

Tahdaon nodded and pressed down on the handle. It was unlocked and the door swung open.

Blood.

So much blood.

Batch's naked and mutilated body lay atop blood stained sheets. His throat had been sliced and his eyes were open, unseeing voids. His mouth was gaping in a silent scream. Cara couldn't breathe.

Batch was dead. Someone had killed him.

Her ears were ringing with the sound of a high pitched scream, and it was moments before she realized that the shriek came from her own throat.

Tahdaon held her and pulled her away from the room. His arms kept her steady as she sobbed against his chest, jerking with the force of her grief.

“Cara,” Tahdaon murmured against her hair. Placing his hand under her chin, he forced her to look at him. There was pity in his gaze, and she could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and drew an uneven breath. “Go tell Finn and Helfrich. They'll know what to do. Then go directly to your chambers. Understand?”

She nodded. Her body and mind were numb, but she did as he directed.

Over and over in her head she kept thinking,
Batch is dead
. This wasn't pretend, as Maeve and Reyn's death had been. This was real. He was actually dead.

Guilt washed over her as she remembered Batch's hollow eyes, his assertion that he was alone, and her own profession that he was her family. But what had she done to protect him? Nothing, and now he was gone.

Lady Hadlee's words came back to her. Was this the start of the men turning on each other?

Had one of her own men done this terrible thing? If so, who among them would ever see Batch as a threat? Who would take an innocent life?

She would find out, and whoever was responsible would pay with their own blood, even if it was her own hand that wielded the knife.

It was well past the moon's zenith when Tahdaon entered Finn's chambers. He shut the door quietly behind him and looked around the room. Finn stood at the hearth, his back to Tahdaon.

“Did anyone see you?” Finn asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

Tahdaon shook his head and gave him a wry look. One thing he knew how to do well was navigate through the shadows undetected.

“Where's Cara?” Tahdaon asked, surprised Finn had let her out of his sight after the incident with Batch.

“Efy is staying with her tonight,” Finn said, gazing into the flickering flames of the fire. He turned his head and studied Tahdaon. “I wanted to talk with you alone.”

Tahdaon crossed the room and poured two cups of ale from the container that sat on the table by the fire. Handing a cup to Finn, he took a deep swig and asked, “How's she doing?”

Finn raked a hand through his long hair and sighed. “She blames herself for what happened, and she's terrified that whoever killed Batch will hurt someone else. She's particularly worried for you. Something the Viceroy's wife said at dinner the other night has made her think that you have a target on your head.”

“I'm Dalglieshan. I always have a target on my head.”

Finn smiled. “She's asked me to keep an eye out for you.”

Tahdaon huffed, “I can take care of myself.”

One corner of Finn's mouth twitched. “That's what I told her.
Still
she insisted.”

Tahdaon shook his head and paced the room, all too aware that Finn watched him with an annoying smirk. He was uncomfortable with the sense of familiarity the man had around him, as if he could read Tahdaon's thoughts. His attempt to distance himself from the others was growing more difficult. Both Finn and Helfrich incessantly pushed themselves on him. He didn't want their friendship or Cara's worry, and yet here he was coming to Finn's chambers like an ordered dog.

“Did you examine the body?” Tahdaon grumbled, changing the subject.

Finn's expression turned somber and he nodded curtly. “He was covered in bruises. Some were fresh, possibly caused by the person who slit his throat, but many were older, some already fading. It looked like he had been beaten many times in the past few weeks, maybe months. There was also evidence of——” Finn paused, and shook his head before continuing. “The physician who examined him said there was evidence that he had been raped prior to the attack.”

Tahdaon closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He had suspected for a couple weeks that Arwel was using him that way, but he had kept silent. “Fuck,” he muttered, and slammed his fist into the wall.

Finn lifted his brows. “You know something?”

Tahdaon looked up at the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have told you sooner. I saw Arwel with Batch a few days before we arrived here. He was groping him and whispering obscenities in his ear. Whatever his suggestions, Batch didn't look willing. In fact, he looked terrified. I was going to talk to him about it before I said anything to you, but I never got the chance.” He paused, thinking about the implications. “It was Arwel that killed him. It had to be.”

Finn was silent for a long moment. “Arwel has a propensity towards violence. You may be right that he had marked Batch as a victim. He may have even beaten him and raped him, but I'm not convinced that he killed Batch.”

“You think the person who violated him is different than the one who took a knife to his throat?”

“I think that slicing someone's throat isn't Arwel's style,” Finn said steadily. “Also, I watched the men's reaction when they were told about the murder. I admit he looked guilty of something, but he went deathly white when he heard the news, and there was genuine shock on his face.”

Tahdaon shook his head. “Either way, he needs to be taken out.”

“We have no proof that's he's guilty of anything. You know as well as I do that unless someone actually saw the murder, whoever did it will walk free. Batch had a target on his head since Loewik. His father pretty much executed him when he refused to hold the moon ceremony. Even if he had survived the tour, the council would have hung him the moment we returned. Batch knew it as well as any of us.”

Snorting, Tahdaon crossed his arms over his chest. “So we're just going to let Arwel walk free?”

“Do we have any other choice?”

Tahdaon sneered, “There's always a choice.”

“So you take your revenge. What will that prove? That you're no better than him! And we don't even know if he is the one who killed Batch.”

Drawing a ragged breath, he curled his lip in disgust. “Give me five minutes with the bastard and I'll make him talk.”

“You lay a hand on him, and you'll only make yourself more of a mark. Already Lord Wilber and his wife are trying to pin this on you. Don't give them or anyone else an excuse to incriminate you.”

“I'm not worried about those whiny egotistical hypocrites, they're all talk.” He let out a frustrated breath. “So what do we do? Just sit and wait for him or whoever else is involved to attack again? That's bullshit and you know it.”

Finn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “We wait and watch.”

“We wait and be killed.”

“I need you to trust me,” Finn said. “There is something else going on here. We've known for some time that Arwel is working with Edmund and Theo. I haven't figured out what their plan is, but I have a feeling that it is bigger than just assassinating one weak link among us. Help me find out their motives. What they plan to gain.”

“You know what they want.” Tahdaon said, his voice harsh. “Edmund is power hungry. He wants the crown, and he'll do anything to get it. He's as conniving and dirty as his father. For whatever reason, Arwel and Theo are convinced that Edmund will be king, and by standing behind him somehow they will rise in rank.”

“You may be right, but we can't kill them because they're ambitious.”

“I am right, and don't think for a minute that they haven't placed a mark on your head as well. Everyone knows that Cara will choose you. Do you think Edmund's just going to sit around and let you take the crown?”

Finn shook his head, but didn't deny what Tahdaon said was true. “Work with me then. Help me figure out what they're planning.”

“Fine,” Tahdaon said, lifting his hands in resignation. “I'll work with you, but if something else happens my hands are clean.”

* * *

It was her own scream that woke her. A sharp cry of anguish that left her panting to catch her breath.

Efy was instantly beside her, holding her, brushing back her hair away from her tear streaked cheek.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “You're okay.”

Shaking with grief and fear, she blinked away the images that had attacked her mind as she slept.

“Another nightmare?”

Cara nodded, not trusting her voice.

There was a knock on the door, and she jumped at the sound.

Efy stood and dressed quickly, opening the door a crack and peering out before opening it completely, and ushering Finn into the room.

She was naked under the sheets, and while he had seen her undressed more times than she could count, heat rose to her cheeks when he sat on the edge of Efy's bed and took her hand.

Finn's face was haggard in the morning sun. There were shadows under his eyes as if he hadn't slept much the night before.  “A messenger arrived early this morning bearing Lord Eoghaan's crest. The man carries a letter with news of Lydd.”  

Cara sat up, “What did it say?”

“He insisted that it be delivered to you personally. I haven't read it.”

“I'll come down immediately.”

Finn traced the outline of her cheek and gently brushed his lips against hers. “I'll wait outside until you're dressed.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed. He always seemed to know what she needed.

When the door was shut, Efy helped fasten the clasps on the back of her dress. She ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair and tied it in a knot at the back of her neck. It would have to do for the moment.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Efy asked, taking her hands in his own.

She managed a smile, but she couldn't hide the fact that her hands shook terribly. “Can you go to Cuch and let him know that there may be news of his family.”

He nodded and let her go.

Cara walked stiffly to the library where the messenger waited.

“You have news for me?” she said, as she entered the room, recognizing the ochre skin man that Lord Eoghaan had sent to Lydd.

The man bowed his head, and Cara's stomach twisted at the look of remorse in his eyes. “Grave news I'm afraid.”

He handed her a letter, sealed not with the mark of the Viceroy of Lydd, but of the mark of the royal council. She took it with unsteady hands.

“Thank you,” she said, blinking back unshed tears.

The man nodded and took his leave.

Finn stood beside her and placed a hand on her arm. “Do you want me to read it?”

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath before breaking the seal.

She had read through the brief report twice, barely registering the enormity of what it said, when Cush came into the room.

He lingered in the doorway and looked at her with worried eyes.

For a long moment she stood frozen, staring at him, the letter held tightly in her fist. His face had gone bloodless, and Cara knew he had read her remorse in her expression.

“They're dead,” he said in a broken whisper. “All of them?”

All she could do was nod.

A spasm of bitter grief contorted his features, and his head fell forward.

Her own tears blurred her vision.

“How?”

“A fire.” She choked on the words, as she pictured Loc's cherub face, his innocent turquoise eyes that were always so full of mischief. He was gone, along with the rest of Cuch's family. “The rebels set the house on fire. No one escaped.”

Cuch stumbled and had to steady himself with one hand on the doorframe. “Did they catch them? The men who did it?”

Cara looked down at the letter, and a single tear fell on the page blurring the ink. It didn't matter, because she had memorized every terrible word. She felt hollow and ill from the contents, but he had a right to know what the letter said.

“By the time reinforcements arrived, the rebels had dispersed. I'm so sorry Cush.” She took a step towards him and he backed away.

“You knew my father.” His voice cracked with raw emotion. “You saw how he treated our people. They would never rebel. I don't believe it.”

“Your father was a wonderful man. I don't know if we would have survived if he hadn't given us aid. We all owe him our lives. If there was anything I could do to change this I would.” She took another tentative step towards him. “You have to trust that the council will do their best to find out who was responsible.”

He looked up, eyes blazing, and Cara couldn't deny him the anger he felt.

“Trust the council?” Cush sneered, and took a step towards her, eyes glued to the letter she held. “What else did the council say? I know there is more in that letter. I can see it in your eyes. What are you hiding? “

“Cush,” Finn said sternly, placing a cautionary arm on the younger man's shoulder.

“No. He's right,” she said to Finn, giving him a look of warning. She needed to deal with this herself. Glancing back at Cush she handed him the letter. “I didn't want to add to your suffering. I wasn't trying to hide anything from you.”

Cush snatched the letter from her hand. His eyes darted over the words, and his face turned crimson as he understood the implication of what the council had done. Her heart ached for him, but there was nothing that she could do to ease his pain.

“They can't——” he cried in horror. “How can they do this? They've taken all of my father's lands, his holdings, and given them to the Viceroy of Hellstrom.”

Finn drew in a sharp breath and stared at Cara. “Is it true?”

“They have placed Lydd under the protection and rule of the Lord Ballack until a new Viceroy can be appointed. It's only temporary.”

Cush crumpled the paper and threw it at Cara's feet. “You don't understand do you? This was all planned. My family wasn't killed by rebels. It was an assassination. There is something dark at work here, and you are both fools if you think whoever is behind this won't go after you too.”

Cush turned on his heels and ran from the room.

She had never seen him so cynical, but Cara had learned long ago that tragedy could change even the most gentle of hearts.

“I hate to say this, but he may be right,” Finn said, rubbing his temples with the palm of his hands. “The council has given Hellstrom too much power. It doesn't make sense. Something else is going on.”

“You don't think they were involved in the attack on Lydd?”

Finn frowned and shook his head. “I don't know.”

“What do we do? First Batch and now this. We aren't even halfway through the tour. I feel like the world is falling apart around me and there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

Finn touched her face, looking sick. “Only Annul knows what lies ahead.”

“Annul,” she whispered, feeling the colour drain from her cheeks. Had she brought the wrath of the goddess on them because of her disbelief? Had her doubts set these events in motion?

Cara shook her head. She had to stop blaming herself for everything that happened. There were greater powers at work, and she was only a small pawn with a much powerful enemy. The problem was she didn't know who her enemies were. Like snakes, they had remained hidden, waiting to attack.

“We need to find out who is responsible for this and if it's connected in any way to Batch's death.”

Finn nodded grimly and picked up the crumpled letter from the floor. “I didn't want to have to worry you with this, but considering the implications of this letter, I think that Edmund is plotting something, most likely with the aid of his father. We also know that he has alliances among the men.”

“Arwel and Theo.”

He nodded. “They're too arrogant for my liking. Too confident in their plan.”

“And now his father controls over half of the country's wealth.” Cara placed her hands and forehead on Finn's chest. “Is the council trying to destroy the country before I even take the throne?”