Sinner (29 page)

He walked to the end of the hall, and stopped at a wall of grey stone.

“Where?” WolfStar said.

Caelum did not answer, but instead hummed a snatch of music. He waited, frowning, then hummed it again.

“What –?” he began, but before he could say any more the wall shimmered, then dissolved, revealing a small chamber.

WolfStar glanced sharply at Caelum, but for the moment he walked silently into the chamber. It was bare, save for red-plastered walls and a small window high in one wall. The oakwood floor revealed no trapdoors.

“Where?” he repeated.

Again Caelum did not answer, but again hummed a melody. This time he did not have to repeat it.

A shelf appeared on the back wall, and on that shelf was a beautifully worked silver casket.

“My father had this made to house the Sceptre,” Caelum said. “He meant to study it, explore it, but it always reminded him so much of Faraday’s death he never did.”

He paused, the casket in his arms, and looked at WolfStar. “Drago could
never
have stolen the Sceptre,” he said. “The enchantments that hide this casket are powerful indeed.”

Enough for you to falter over, thought WolfStar. Or is there something else wrong, Caelum? Why stumble so badly?

“Open it,” he said.

“No-one knew of these enchantments save my father and myself,” Caelum said, delaying the inevitable. “No-one knew where the Sceptre –”

“
Open it!
”

Caelum’s eyes dropped. He took a deep breath, then the fingers of his right hand pressed into a secret catch on the side of the casket.

The lid sprung open.

Revealing nothing but the scarlet, silk-lined interior.

The Sceptre was gone.

“Stars!” Caelum cried, and for an instant he could almost
feel
the tip of the sword slicing through his chest,
feel
the taste of Drago’s bloody malevolence in his mouth.

“WolfStar…WolfStar, there is
no
way that Drago could have stolen this! No way! He can’t –”

“Nevertheless, the fact is he
has!
”

WolfStar stood thinking, shifting a little from foot to foot, then faced Caelum with such a look of dread that Caelum’s stomach clenched.

“My boy,” WolfStar said very softly. “Over the past weeks, has your power remained untainted? At full strength? You needed to try that enchantment twice to enter this chamber…”

“There has been a minor disturbance. But I thought it only because I have been so concerned with my cares that I–”

“By all the stars in heaven,” WolfStar whispered, his face blanching, “it
has
begun!”

And then he vanished.

Caelum stood, alternatively looking helplessly at the spot where WolfStar had vanished and at the empty cache.

What did WolfStar mean, “it has begun”? And what should
he
do?

For a very long time Caelum stood there, the empty casket in his arms, not knowing what to think or do next.

How had Drago managed to get in?

What could he do with the Sceptre?

“Gods,” Caelum eventually whispered, his face ashen. “It
has
begun again. Drago has set his sights on my murder, it seems. Where are you, Drago? What do you plan?”

Did he ever dare sleep again?

WolfStar strode through the archways surrounding the Star Gate chamber, startling the two Enchanters standing watch there into anxious exclamation.

“Oh, be quiet!” WolfStar snapped, “I am not here to eat you!”

He walked to the Star Gate and stood silently, wrapping his golden wings about him, cocooning himself against the terror he half expected to be rushing towards it from the other side.

But there was nothing.

Nothing save the whispers of the children.

We’re coming…
we’re coming, WolfStar!

“They’re closer,” one of the Enchanters dared to say. Both of them had backed a safe distance away.

WolfStar shot her a furious look, but she was right. They
were
closer. Significantly closer.

But still far away, WolfStar tried to reassure himself. Besides, it was not the children that so worried him.

Was there a hint of anything
else
approaching the Star Gate?

WolfStar bent his entire power and concentration to the task. Listening, feeling, probing.

But even WolfStar’s power, extensive as it was, was not enough to feel anything else.

Was it because there
was
nothing else?

Or was it because…they…were using the approach of the children to mask their own approach?

WolfStar shuddered. He didn’t know whether the slight diminution in his own power – and it
was
only slight – had any real connection with those who waited beyond the Star Gate. WolfStar didn’t even know if Drago had gone through the Star Gate. Had he murdered Orr, then fled back down one of the passageways in terror? Was he lurking in the waterways somewhere?
Where was the Rainbow Sceptre?

The red doe. Faraday.
She
had been here. She would know.

WolfStar tried to concentrate, tried to think it through. If – and only if – Drago had gone through, then
would he have survived? Unlikely. But even if he had snapped out of existence, that left the Rainbow Sceptre floating lost amid the stars…lost for any who cared to pick it up and make use of it.

“We need that Sceptre,” WolfStar murmured. “Caelum –
Tencendor!
– has no chance without it. None!”

Confound that piece of rotting carrion!
What had happened?
And what if…they…were approaching behind the children?

What should he do?

He needed far more power to scry them out than he commanded. “The power of the Circle,” he said to the puzzled Enchanters.

And he needed to know if Drago had gone through the Star Gate, or if the Rainbow Sceptre was still in Tencendor.

“Faraday,” WolfStar said, and vanished yet again.

The two Enchanters looked at each other, shaken beyond measure at the renegade Enchanter’s visit, and wondered what
they
should do.

Z
ared narrowed his eyes against the late afternoon sun and stared into the sky. A stiff northerly breeze, redolent with frost, ruffled his black hair. He shivered and pulled his cloak closer. An Icarii approached from the north-west, his wings shuddering with the effort of coping with the wind.

“He is not armed,” Herme murmured by Zared’s side. They stood atop Kastaleon’s walls, awaiting Caelum’s reaction. Indecision? Action? Retreat? They knew not what, and the unknowing was driving all to short tempers.

“Even
I
could deal with a single armed Icarii,” Zared said.

“Of course,” Herme soothed. “I did not mean –”

“I know you did not,” Zared said, dropping his eyes from the Icarii momentarily. “I apologise for my tone, Herme.”

Herme nodded, accepting the apology. They had heard nothing for…what? It was over two weeks since they’d taken this isolated pile of stones. In that time Caelum could have done anything.

The Icarii circled lower and one of the guards called out a challenge.

The Icarii answered, his words lost in the wind for Zared and Herme, but the guard waved the Icarii towards where they stood.

“It’s one of the Lake Guard,” Zared said, every muscle in his body tensing as the Icarii dropped down towards him.

“Caelum’s answer,” Herme said, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword, even though the birdman was unarmed. “They wouldn’t fly about Tencendor for anyone else.”

“Hail, Prince Zared,” said the Icarii, landing gracefully some two or three paces away from them. He was a striking birdman, with brilliant blue plumage and eyes and luminous white skin. “My name is ForestFlight EverSoar, and I –”

“You come from Caelum?” Zared said shortly.

“Indeed, my Prince. He has instructed me to greet you well in his name, and to –”

“Oh, get on with it, man!”

“My Prince, StarSon has instructed me to say that while he abhors your actions, he has reluctantly conceded that talks on the throne of Achar must proceed. Accordingly he bids that you wait here until he can summon the other Heads of the Five in Council at Kastaleon.”

Zared looked at the Icarii carefully. “He is summoning a Council to meet here?”

“At this very moment, my Prince,” ForestFlight said, unblinking.

Zared looked to Herme. “Well?”

Herme chewed his lip. “You seem to have startled him into some good sense, Zared. Although, gods knows, Askam must be furious.”

Zared nodded. “Well, nothing for it but to wait for the Council to arrive, I suppose. ForestFlight, I thank you, please avail yourself of the hospitality of Kastaleon before you leave. ForestFlight? You may leave. Now.”

ForestFlight stood his ground.

“Go, birdman!” Herme snapped, sliding his hand back around the hilt of his sword.

“Of course, there is that which Caelum very carefully instructed me
not
to tell you,” ForestFlight began.

Zared and Herme stilled. “Yes?” Zared said.

“StarSon would very much like you
not
to know that eight days ago six Wing of the Strike Force took Severin, nor would he like you to know that even as I speak he and Prince Askam lead a force down the Nordra to retake Kastaleon and take you, the Duke of Aldeni and the Earl of Avonsdale into custody prior to your trial for high treason against the Star Throne. And we all know, do we not, Sir Prince, how well Caelum conducts trials.”

Zared could hardly breathe. He stared at ForestFlight, standing perfectly calm before him, and he struggled to come to terms with what the birdman had just declared. “Severin is taken?”

“Yes, my Prince. It has been sealed, no-one can leave. That is why you have not heard.”

“And Caelum is leading a force to Kastaleon? How many? Where are they now?”

“Some five thousand, Prince Zared. And barring shoals and accidents, they will land during the dark hours of tomorrow morning. His message is a lie. Caelum is determined that the throne of Achar will never be resurrected.”

Zared stepped forward and took the Icarii’s chin in his hand. “And why are you telling me this, ForestFlight?” he said softly. “Why should I trust you? Is not your complete loyalty to the StarSon?”

ForestFlight wrenched his chin away from Zared’s grasp. “I answer to no-one save my captain,” he said. “WingRidge gives me my orders. I do not know why he
requested I tell you this. You may believe me or not, as you choose.”

And with that he leapt into the air with a powerful beat of his wings. Zared grabbed at him, but missed. He cursed, then put a hand on Herme’s arm.

“No, my friend. Do not shout to the guard. Their arrows would never hit him now, and nor would I want them to.”

“My Prince? What do you think we should do? Was that a false message from Caelum?”

“I don’t know. But can we afford to ignore it? And Severin?
Taken?
” Gods! He’d not expected that of Caelum! Zared felt guilt bite deep that an innocent town suffered for his ambition.

There was a shout from the courtyard below. They looked down. Theod stood there, beckoning urgently. By his side stood a trader Zared recognised from Jannymire Goldman’s coterie.

“Luck? Or design?” Zared muttered, but stepped onto the ladder anyway.

“Severin was taken over a week ago,” the trader, Bormot Kilckman, said bluntly.

“And how do you know –” Zared began, his voice roughened with frustration, when Kilckman thrust a cage at him. Inside was a small, grey pigeon.

Zared recognised it instantly. “Mayor Iniscue’s bird,” he said softly, then explained to Herme and Theod. “Mayor Iniscue’s wife keeps a score of these courier birds, trained to fly to various locations.”

“This one landed at Carlon two days ago,” Kilckman explained. “It had a message tube attached with the bare fact of Severin’s capture inside. I caught the next river boat for Kastaleon.”

Zared looked to the skies again, half expecting to see
ForestFlight still circling above. But he was long gone…back to the StarSon he apparently served so badly. There was nothing there save dark clouds scudding in from the north-west.

Bad weather, then.

“So Severin is indeed lost,” Herme said. “Is then Caelum a few bare hours away?”

“
What?
” exclaimed Theod.

Zared ignored him for the moment. “We must assume so, Herme. I cannot afford not to.”

Herme nodded, and quickly told Theod what they’d learned from the Lake Guard.

Theod paled. “Four or five thousand men? Where would he get that –”

“Askam sent a thousand of his own men to Sigholt,” Zared said. “Perhaps he thought he’d need them at Council. And Caelum has always had a good force stationed at Sigholt. Coupled with the force he could have called in from Jervois Landing…yes, Caelum could easily have five thousand.”

“We’d never hold against five thousand,” Herme said bluntly. “Can we recall our major force from the Western Ranges?”

Zared shook his head. “It would take too long, far too long, and in any case I do not want to make a stand here.”

“Sir Prince,” Kilckman said, “what will you do?”

“Caelum thinks I will be here, awaiting his decision. He thinks to attack, probably at dawn tomorrow.”

“We have less than fifteen hours,” Theod put in.

Zared stood, thinking, the others watching impatiently.

“We have to leave here,” he said.

“For where?” Theod and Herme said together.

“Carlon.”

No-one looked surprised. “Yes,” Kilckman said. “Carlon is your safest destination. Five thousand would not be enough to take Carlon from you.”

“But if Caelum is only a few hours behind us,” Herme asked, “what chance –”

Zared grinned. “
Every
chance, my friend. Theod? Once you played a prank on the Prince of Nor’s younger cousin during his fifteenth name-day feast…do you remember it?”

Theod slowly smiled. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Then I think we will not only have a surprise waiting for Caelum and his five thousand, but the means to delay them here some hours, if not days. Yes?”

Theod laughed. “Yes!”

“What
is
going on?” Herme asked.

Zared slapped him on the back. “Come, my friend. I shall explain shortly, but first we have to get our men out of here. I want this castle cleared, the trap set, and us to be on the road for Carlon within five hours. Herme, I need you to send word to our forces waiting in the Western Ranges to move to Carlon. Kilckman? Master Goldman said that the traders and guilds of Carlon would back me in whatever way they could. Can you fulfil that promise?”

“Aye, Sir Prince.” Kilckman’s eyes gleamed. “What can I do for you?”

“Prepare the way, Kilckman. Leave now. Take the fastest boat if you have to. And…” Zared paused. “And ask Goldman if he will ensure that there will be an appropriate street welcome. He will know what I mean.”

Zared walked down the hallway leading to the private apartments in Kastaleon’s Keep.

The Keep was very quiet – everyone was outside preparing for departure – and the sound of his steps echoed eerily.

He stopped outside the door to the main apartment, knocked quietly, then entered without waiting for a reply.

Leagh was sitting on a bench by a window that looked down into the courtyard. She glanced up as he entered, then swiftly turned her eyes back to the window.

She did not speak as Zared walked across the room and sat down beside her.

He looked out the window – the courtyard was abustle with activity.

“We are pulling out of Kastaleon,” he said. “Tonight.”

Leagh finally looked at him.

“Caelum comes,” she said coldly. “And with an army. No wonder you run.”

Zared flinched. “Yes, Caelum comes, and I would prefer to meet him on better terms than those I have available here.”

“So where do we run?”

“We
move
to Carlon.”

“Carlon? But –”

“Leagh,” Zared leaned over and took both her hands.

She stiffened, but did not pull them free.

“Leagh, I have lied to you, and I have been dishonest with you, and for that I must ask your forgiveness.”

“I don’t think that I –”

“Wait, let me finish.” He shifted his grip slightly, holding her hands more firmly, and he looked her straight in the eyes.

“There is far more to my struggle with Caelum than trade problems. At Council I…at Council I also asked that the throne of Achar be restored to me.”

“
What!
” Leagh pulled her hands from his and leaned back, utterly shocked.

“Leagh,
listen
to me! For some time now representations from Carlon and the West have pleaded with me to restore the throne of Achar, restore the Acharites’ pride and nationhood.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Damn it, Leagh! Why do you think Theod and Herme ride with me?”

“For their own gain?”

“Ah! Leagh, did you never walk beyond your own apartments in your palace in Carlon? Have you never listened to the hearts of those who thronged the streets?”

She was silent, but she dropped her eyes.

“Leagh, there is far more involved than you or I, or my quarrel with Caelum and Askam. This involves an entire people,
their
wants and needs. Leagh…my love…I ask you to say nothing at this time. I hope that when we arrive in Carlon you will see that this is not of my wishing, but of the wishing of a people.”

“My loyalties –” she began.

“Your loyalties and your responsibility should
always
be to your people, Leagh. Not to me, not to Askam, not even to Caelum.”

“My loyalty is to the Throne of the Stars, as should yours be!”

“No,” Zared said very softly, and took her hands again. “Our loyalty should always be to the people we represent, to those who look to us for leadership and protection. Leagh, I need you to understand this. I do
not
seek the throne of Achar through personal ambition, but through the wishes of the Acharites and a need to right the wrong that has been done to them, not just the unfair taxation burden that only the Acharites have been forced to shoulder, but the fact that Axis stripped our people –
our
people, damn it! – of their nationality and pride.”

“And me?”

“You? Leagh, I love you heart and soul, and for that reason alone I want you as my wife. But I also love you for what you represent – a chance for the rift between West and North to be healed.”

“You want the lands of the West!”

“If it would help reunite the Acharites as a people, then, yes, I do,” he said bluntly.

She was silent, trying to absorb his words.

“Leagh,” he said, “I have been utterly honest with you here today, and I regret that I have not been previously. You and I are not carter and laundress, with no responsibilities other than those our honest occupations demand. We both represent massive numbers of people and vast areas of land. Of course those responsibilities impinge on our relationship, and on how we view each other.”

He sighed, and lifted one hand to cup her face. “Leagh, I love you as a woman first and foremost, I love your strength and your courage, your wit and your laughter. I also know how advantageous a marriage between us would be, not personally, but to the
people
we represent. Do you know what I am saying?”

She nodded. “We are man and woman, but we are also greater than that. We cannot regard marriage as a personal contract, but as a contract between people.”

“And so,” he said softly, “we must take into account the wishes of our own people in our marriage. Leagh, I want you for my wife. When we get to Carlon I hope that you will see that
your
people want me for your husband. Will you accept their wishes in your answer?”

She thought a long time, staring vaguely out the window.

When she finally looked back at him, Zared could see tears brimming in her eyes.

“If Carlon wants you as King, Zared, if I think that the people of the West want what you do, then, yes, I will be your wife.”

Zared relaxed, and leaned forward and kissed her.