Return to Caer Lon (27 page)

Three words would serve her needs. Three little words, spoke loud with a clear voice, looking at the seer directly in the eye.
"
P
antswa nekem maorenia
.
"

Closing the door behind her, Fillin tiptoed to the stairs leading to the caves, book in hand. There was only one thing the pair would seek before confronting her father. If she set her trap near Elwyn’s cell, she was sure to catch her prey.

Chapter 28

The
sunset fringed the line of clouds with yellow and red copper, as the solar disk disappeared behind the horizon. On the left, the sea mirrored delicate pink and gold. On the right, the storm was nearly upon them, straining the sky with dim grey and heavy marks.

The duke looked for a gush of wind, the distinctive fresh smell that always came before the rain. The hush was unsettling; no thunder rolled, far away in the heart of the coming tempest. The wind had not risen yet. The banners pooled sadly,
with
the dark bear, Pemfro’s protector, sleeping wrapped around the mast.

Geraint lowered his gaze to the now empty courtyard. The merchants had packed their goods, and even the last onlookers were deserting the place, quietly going home. A man, fully armed, caught his captain’s short nod, and lifted his arm in return. The order was forwarded to another guard, until a tired squeal broke the silence.

A loud
bonk
bounced on the inner walls when the beam secured into place. The sentinel hurried through the courtyard, en route to the other posterns. Geraint turned away from his position on the crenels. For the first time in fifteen years, Haven would close its doors for the night.

He wished he could protect his children as easily as his city. For the thousandth time in three days, he wondered where they were, and if they had found a shelter for the night. He could only pray they were safe.

The mid-aged man resisted the urge to massage his temples, and shot one last glance to the quieting courtyard below him, readying for his first guard inspection in years. The small silhouette that appeared in front of him startled him.

“Lady Sonia, what you doing here?”

The young woman bowed her head gracefully, not at all bothered by his arch welcome.

“I was looking for you, Sir Geraint. I have a favour to ask.”

The duke reciprocated the salute. He had heard the queen had met with her the previous afternoon, though Ylianor had been very discreet about the encounter. Was that so-called request anything related to their conversation?

“Please do ask, Lady Sonia.”

She smiled sweetly as he offered his arm to escort her off the walls.

“I would like to send word to my mother,
m
y
l
ord, and wondered if I could borrow one of your doves.”

“Of course. Garrett will-“

“I was hoping to send my message tonight,
m
y
l
ord.”

He recognized the smile. Sacha mustered the same, when she wanted to charm her dear old father into agreeing to some fantas
tic
indulgence she hadn’t or couldn’t dragoon out of her brother. Geraint raised an eyebrow to mask his amusement at the display.

“The bird cage is closed for the night.”

Sonia answered with the faintest flutter of lashes, her intelligent brown eyes scrutinizing his face. He felt too old for these games.

“Lady Sonia, I am sorry
,
but you will have to wait for Garret to open the cage tomorrow.”

Her hand dug in
to
his forearm briefly, as he helped through the low passage leading the stairs.

“I’m afraid I have to insist, Sir Geraint.”

The sweet grin was gone, as well as the flirty ways. The older man held the darker stare without blinking.

“Really. And why is that, pray tell?”

“I-“
S
he choked
on
the first syllab
le
and clasped her mouth shut instantly, finally breaking the eye contact
.

“I need my mother’s advice.”

The words bumped against each other in her haste to have them out. “On private matters.”

Sonia lifted her gaze back to his defiantly. Her discomfort hadn’t lasted very long. Did Sonia’s meeting with the queen regard th
ese
"
private matter
s"
as well? For all he knew, Sonia had barely communicated with her mother in the last year; thus why now? What did she discuss with Ylianor that required some advice? It had to be related to Derek, in some way. Derek
,
whom everybody, Sonia included, was supposed to think was scouting the northern border.

The brunette’s face revealed nothing except her obvious dissatisfaction at being denied, or even questioned. She would not disclose anything more to him than she had to the queen. Geraint
made
a mental note to inquire about their meeting. In the meantime, he presented his best paternal grin to the young woman at his arm.

“Do not trouble yourself. I am convinced the
L
ady Ylianor will answer any of your questions until you get word from your mother. Tomorrow.”

The glance she shot him froze the air in the staircase. Geraint kept his smirk in place. The bottom of the steps offered the perfect pretext to excuse himself. He had spent enough time on a battlefield to know when a strategic retreat was best; or when additional information was required before starting a war.

oOo

The light knock on the door pulled Sebastian out his sleepy reverie. The half-dr
a
wn curtains made it hard to tell exactly what time it was, but a growl low in his stomach  din
n
er time was close enough.

“Come in. Ah, Agnes...”

He received a small smile in return for his greeting, while the servant installed her tray on the nightstand near him before helping him up. The smell of food provoked another
re
prise from his stomach, making him blush slightly, as he perused the mashed potatoes and glazed ham. At least Jeffrey seemed to think he had had enough of chicken soup.

The young man doubted the physician’s judgement with the first bit. His jaw cracked painfully when he took in the first forkful. Swallowing also cost him. He paused before taking another one, allowing the load that had fallen into his stomach to settle down.

Agnes busied herself with the jug, realigning his medicine unnecessarily, or ruffling a cushion on a s
ea
t near the chimney. He watched her do
ings
for a few minutes, before deciding her nerves were more annoying than funny.

“Agnes, can you just… Just sit down
,
please.”

Doe eyes widened on her face briefly before they fell to the floor
. S
he curtsied and moved to a corner to sit on a stool to wait. Sebastian sighed and cut another piece of ham, smaller this time, hoping that coating it with mash would help it down. Eating without real company was dull, especially when chewing hurt this much.

Another visitor took his attention away from his plate.

“Good evening
,
Sebastian.”

“Good evening
,
Uncle. You look tired.”

Geraint laughed, and the grin washed away some of the worries weighting his features.

“Thank you. You don’t look that fresh yourself. How’s your din
n
er?”

Sebastian wrinkled his nose and pushed the rest of his food away.

“Please never tell Elwyn and Derek I said th
is
, but chicken soup has its perks.”

The mention of his two best friends dimmed the light atmosphere their bantering had brought about. Geraint took the tray away to the main table and put a small scroll on his nephew’s lap. Sebastian didn’t grab it immediately, watching his elder walk around the room instead. Finally, Geraint ceased his inspection and took the seat by the bed.

“It came in two days ago.”

The young man picked up the missive; he recognized Derek’s handwriting and went carefully through the enigmatic message.

Geraint stared at his nephew while he read. It was hard to say if the color on his cheeks came from bruises, or
from
eating properly. His shoulders were hunched, his back round against the pillows, and he read with the paper close to his chest to avoid lifting his arms up too much.

“So
.
Wolfryth.”

The older man nodded.

“I fear so. Reports confirm his mercenaries are marching to the north too.”

A small wrinkle marred Sebastian’s forehead.

“It’s more complicated than that, isn’t it? They could have killed us all, or simply waited in the woods until we left. We would never have found them. Those men moved and fought like animals.”

A shiver crumbled up his spine at the memory. Geraint waited for his nephew to go on.

“He used us as a bait, to get Derek. He hoped you sent your best men after us. You didn’t, but the fool jumped in nonetheless. God, when will he learn?!”

Agitation took its toll and Sebastian fell back in his cushions, exhausted and furious at his friend for being so careless, and at himself for being weak. If only he had been conscious, he would have convinced his best friend not to go. He would have seen through his cousin’s torturous schemes and stopped her beforehand. He would have… Sebastian turned his head toward his uncle.

“Do you think Wolfryth know
s
Derek is to enter Camelot’s territory?”

“Maybe not yet. We can only hope.”

“How long can we keep up the
pretence
?”

Geraint pushed on
to
his feet to go
to
the window
and
star
ed
at the courtyard below.

“A day, two at most. I ordered the doors to be closed for the night.”

“We need a diversion.”

Sebastian pushed his head back into his pillow, closing his eyes
for
an instant.

“Recall your men from the north. And declare war
on
Wolfryth
,
on Derek’s behalf.”

A yelp and a crash echoed Geraint’
s
own gasp. Both men had forgotten the maid, who fell on her knees to pick up the pieces of the tray she had silently gathered from the table. Geraint waved his hand and she hurried out.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, we want Wolfryth’s attention away from Camelot’s border.”

“What will we do then? We won’t stand a chance if he attacks us with magic.”

Sebastian met his uncle’s clear eyes with dark, serious ones.

“I know. But do we have a choice?”

Geraint shook his head.

“You are asking me to risk the life of hundreds of people to save only one.”

“Not one man, Sir Geraint. All of us.”

Ylianor signalled Sebastian not to move, but for once accepted Geraint’s
bow of
deference with a short nod.

“I have some information I must share with you.”

She settled very straight on the chair the duke had deserted.

“Several things were related to me yesterday afternoon.”

Geraint furrowed his brows slightly, not daring interrupting the queen.

“I
have
still to decide wh
ich
part is true and wh
ich
part is pure superstition. However, I was told only Derek can stop this madman
from
bring
ing
more damages upon the kingdom, and this I believe.”

She turned to the duke with a tired expression on her graceful face.

“I won’t ask for your assistance as my vassal. I am not your queen anymore. I am asking for a friend’s help, as my husband did fifteen years ago.”

Sebastian watched the battle on his uncle’s face. He knew what answer he would have given, he already had, but he was young and inexperienced. He hadn’t the weight of a duchy on his shoulders, or to balance lives against honour. Suddenly, he regretted his suggestion
.
S
urely there was another way
.
T
hey could continue to act as if Derek w
ere
among them, and…
A
nd believe in miracles.

“And a friend’s help you will receive, Madam. I will reunite the council tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

The duke bowed over the offered hand, and left.

Sebastian noticed for the first time the shaking on the lady’s hands when she picked up the book he had abandoned
earlier
in the afternoon, too drowsy to read.

“
The Odyssey
… I must say Derek always preferred
T
he Iliad
. The fighting suited him better than the tale of waiting and patience.”