Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (45 page)

Andrew shied away from the flask held to his lips.

‘You honestly think I’d poison you, all the way out here?’ An absent chuckle was lost in the snowy silence. ‘I could have killed you a thousand times since we last met – but that doesn’t mean you should trust me. However, we have a long walk ahead of us. It’s up to you, but you might want a drink first.’ With that, the flask was placed in Andrew’s hands and he was left alone to make his choice.

He
was
terribly thirsty, so he took a sniff of the contents. It smelled like water. He swallowed a mouthful, then drank greedily. The flask was taken from him and the rope attached to his hands picked up. Then Andrew was forced to walk along behind, with the horses, as his captor found some invisible path and began climbing the ominous black cliff.

Andrew tried to keep up, but he could hardly see a thing before him, just the ropes binding his hands, which affected his balance. He stumbled every few minutes, but he was warm and the ropes weren’t painful, at least, as long as he didn’t pull on them.

The path wound back and forth, zigzagging up the almost sheer cliff-face, and not for one moment was the pace slowed for him, no matter how many times he fell. His boots were sodden within minutes, the snow melting on them, turning his toes to ice. His head pounded with each step, almost deafening him to everything else. When he could, he’d look up, hoping to see that the top was close by, but it seemed forever impossibly far away, as though it would always keep moving, no matter how many hours or days he trudged like this.

And then, abruptly, when he’d given up hope, they did reach the top and he was allowed a moment to rest, to catch his breath and take another few drops of water. Then they were moving again, down at first, then up again, onto open moorland now, swept by wind and rain. There was little snow here, but the ground was soggy, his boots sinking into mud that sucked all the energy from him. There was enough light now for him to see this moor stretched far in every direction, to the end of the world, perhaps.

He passed the night in a terrible daze, his body aching in every joint, until his thoughts shut down, his curiosity died and nothing mattered any more except for maintaining his balance. He barely noticed when the path began to drop again, when wind petered out and high gully walls surrounded him. When the pressure on the rope ceased suddenly, he dropped where he was, his body not caring that he was half on rock, half on sodden grass.

He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

*

Finnlay couldn’t tell what it was in the air that made him look up, made him stand up. He’d been keeping the usual watch, as he always did when out with Jenn, because there was no way of trusting that some danger might not appear if he wasn’t paying attention; usually he could work out what had alerted his instincts, but this time, he couldn’t.

And his instincts alerted Jenn’s. Though she had poor Seeking abilities, her Senses were well-trained enough and after the first moment, she too was certain there was something odd in the night, something that hadn’t been there before.

After standing and listening for a moment, they turned to each other.

‘Anything?’

‘Nothing … specific. But you know me – I’m not sure I’d notice anything specific unless it …’ The grin faded from her face as she turned slightly, almost sniffing the air.

Micah had been gone an hour, perhaps; Andrew only ten minutes. Finnlay suddenly didn’t think it a good idea to try shouting for them. Quickly, he pulled out his
ayarn
and sent his Senses forth – but Jenn was already standing.

‘Come on.’

The moment he reached the river path, he began looking closely for signs of passage, for clues that might indicate some other danger. Perhaps they were overreacting, but Andrew was too valuable to take such chances – and, damn it, he shouldn’t have let the boy go on his own in the first place.

There was nothing to see on the path, nothing to indicate …

‘Listen!’ Jenn’s hand on his arm, her swift whisper sent a shiver down his spine.

Two horses, galloping hard on the snow-laden ground, getting further and further away.

He took off running, leaping over obstacles in his way until he reached the ruin, his hand ready on his sword, but he could be too late already …

The ruin was empty, but on the other side was—

‘Micah?’ Jenn rushed forward, but Micah barely noticed her. Instead, he stood gazing into the forest, left hand on the hilt of
his sword, and the oddest expression Finnlay had ever seen on his face.

He didn’t appear to be injured, so Finnlay kept going, finding two sets of footprints in the snow, and then two horses, both coming and going back in the direction in which Micah was staring.

Finnlay turned, strode up to Micah and said, ‘Where’s Andrew?’

Micah blinked twice, then roused himself from his daydream. His eyes looked bleak as he said, ‘He’s gone.’

‘Gone?’ Jenn struggled to contain her fear and her anger. ‘What do you mean, gone? Gone where? With whom?’

‘I don’t know where. He didn’t say.’

Finnlay grabbed Micah’s arms, shaking him a little, icy threads of panic beginning to rise in him. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you? Was it … Nash? Did he take Andrew? Did he do something to you?’

‘Nash?’ Micah half-smiled, then said, ‘By the gods, no. You don’t understand. I didn’t. But now …’

‘Micah,’ Jenn threatened, ‘if you don’t tell me where my son is—’

‘He’s safe,’ Micah rushed to assure her, before adding. ‘Robert took him.’

For a moment, Finnlay was sure he’d misheard, or at least, misunderstood, because it simply didn’t make any sense that Robert, of all people would simply abduct …

Soon … spring … you’ll know what to do …

He dropped his hands and took a step back, horror and excitement thrashing together inside him so violently, he couldn’t form thought, let alone words.

Robert was going to use Andrew.

By the gods!

A flash of movement caught his eye. Jenn had grabbed Micah’s arm and was trying to urge him back to the camp for their horses. Finnlay, struck into motion, held up his hands. ‘Wait! Jenn, what are you doing?’

‘What am I doing?’ she snapped, her eyes ablaze. ‘I’m going to get my son—’

‘Robert’s
son!’

‘My
son, Finn! And Robert can’t have him. I’m going to get him back. I’m going to stop him—’

‘Stop him what? Doing what you’re afraid to do yourself? Is that it?’ Finnlay took a step closer to her, but was wise enough to make no move to hold her still, to calm the fear and anger that radiated from her. Deliberately he dropped his voice, keeping his tone reasonable. ‘I tried to warn you, the day Andrew was born.’

‘Fine! Don’t help me. I’ll go alone!’

‘Jenn!’ This time Finnlay did catch her arm, pulling her around to face him. ‘You know there is no way you will ever be able to find them. If Robert doesn’t want to be found, you don’t have a chance. Serin’s blood, will you just listen?’

She stood still before him, shaking, stiff panting breaths catching the air, her eyes speaking volumes she couldn’t trust to words. Then, finally, her eyes filled. ‘Damn you. Damn you for believing him.’ And she turned to Micah. ‘And damn you for letting him take my son. And I suppose you told him as well, didn’t you? You always wanted to.’

‘No.’ Micah’s voice betrayed the shame he obviously felt. ‘Robert can’t know now.’

Finnlay frowned. ‘Can’t know? Why not?’

Micah stared at the ground a moment longer, then squared his shoulders. ‘There is no way that Robert would ever sanction putting his own son on the throne of Lusara. You’ve finally got one thing you always wanted, Jenn. I now promise I will never tell them.’

‘You knew?’ Jenn’s horrified whisper slit the night. ‘You
knew
this was what Robert was planning? That’s why … oh, sweet Mineah, please, don’t tell me that’s why you … all these years, that’s why you stayed with Andrew, looking after him, guarding him … because you knew Robert would do this.’

Micah bravely held her gaze for a moment though he gave no verbal answer. Slowly he headed back towards camp. He took three steps, then paused, not facing them. ‘My father died believing I was a traitor to my people. If nothing else, Robert taught me where the path of honour lies, and no matter what
you might believe, I have never strayed from it, even if you can’t see my footprints.’

And then he was gone, merging into the shadows as though he would become one with them.

*

Bright morning light forced Andrew’s eyes open, though reluctantly. He blinked up at a pale blue sky streaked with horse’s tail clouds. For a moment, he kept still, but then the fear returned, awakening him fully to the new day.

He turned his head left and saw nothing but a gently smouldering campfire in a clearing in the stones. To his left, tied beneath a young, spindly pine, were the two horses, stripped of their saddles, lazily munching on fistfuls of winter-brown grass – but other than that, he was alone.

What was he doing here? And why had he been taken without a word to his mother … or Finnlay, even?

And why had Micah just …

He groaned loudly as he sat up. His hands were still bound, but the rope was loose enough for him to flex his fingers. The rest of his body, however, complained at his movements. He looked down to find two thick blankets had been laid over him. Frowning, he picked them off, rolled to his knees and got up.

His head spun and he stumbled back against a narrow tree trunk until things righted themselves. When he opened his eyes again, he looked down, searching for footprints in the brown slush. They went off in every direction.

‘Hungry?’

He flinched as the word reached him. He looked up to find the man emerging from the woods, a branch of something tucked under his arm.

‘Could you …’ Andrew’s voice faded as the enormity of the situation pressed in on him, waking him completely.

He was in the presence of a legend.

‘I suppose you want those ropes removed, eh?’

Green eyes gazed down on him steadily, as though expecting some kind of trick reply.

‘Yes,’ Andrew managed, then flinched again when a knife
was sliced through his bonds. Immediately he pulled the ropes away and began to rub his wrists. The moment he was finished, a hot cup was pressed into his hands.

‘Drink. Eat. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.’

‘A journey?’ Andrew swallowed, and his stomach replied with a growl. ‘Where to?’

‘Wait and see.’ Another sea-green gaze swept over him and then the man turned his back and returned to the woods, as though what remained behind was of no interest to him.

*

Robert sat on a rock and watched the clearing below. Andrew was stomping around the space, like a rat in a trap, eating bread, looking for a way out.

Of course, Andrew assumed, like all rats, that there
was
a way out in the first place, that it was just a matter of finding the right words, the right actions, arranging the timing and the resources, and the problem was solved.

Now the boy was checking the horses, running his hands over twitching animal-flesh. Was this real interest? Or was it purely boredom?

How much work would he have to do? So far the boy had not reacted as he’d expected, though that was not necessarily a bad thing. What other surprises awaited him?

With a sigh, he stood up and stretched. There was only one way to find out.

*

‘Jenn, you’ve got to stop,’ Finnlay urged gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. He crouched down beside the rock she was sitting on and studied her pale face, the closed eyes which slowly opened to stare without focus at the ground before her.

‘I can’t stop. I have to know where they are. What they’re doing. What … Robert’s doing.’ She swallowed hard and Finnlay put a cup of brew into her hands.

He looked at the camp they had made for the night, to where the fire was ready to die out, to where the horses were saddled, ready to move, to the empty place that Micah should have occupied. Finnlay had no idea where Micah was, but he
wouldn’t go far – just far enough away from Jenn and what she might say to him.

She felt betrayed – and the worst of it was, Finnlay couldn’t blame her. Micah was her oldest, most steadfast friend – even though she’d always known his first loyalty was to Robert. But for the last eight years, that had been replaced by loyalty to Jenn, and Andrew.

Finnlay sighed and turned back to find Jenn readying herself to try Seeking again, as she had all night, stretching her meagre abilities as far as she could in the hope that she could find something shielded more strongly than her own soul. Now, in the light of morning, she was just as determined, even if it exhausted her.

He reached out and placed a hand over hers. ‘Please, Jenn. No more. Micah said he believed Robert would bring Andrew back—’

‘But Robert didn’t say that, did he?’ She looked up at him, eyes wide, hoping for something, but expecting nothing. ‘I don’t want this. I never did. You, Robert … even Micah … You’re all so … ready for this, for what it means. But I …’

Her voice trailed off and she took another sip of her brew. She was pale, blue eyes peering out at a world she had struggled to find a place in. There was hardly a moment in her life where she’d been wholly free to make any choice, and yet, that struggle still continued, with the same determination as ever.

‘Micah was right about one thing,’ she murmured after a moment.

‘What’s that?’

‘I can’t ever tell Robert. Not now he’s done this.’

This mood of hers was frightening Finnlay a little, as though she’d made some decisions she knew he wouldn’t like. Braving it, however, he said, ‘But you never planned to, did you?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘one day, when all this was over. I … you’ll think me stupid but … I’d hoped to keep Andrew safe for him, the way I know Robert never will.’

A shiver of fear ran down Finnlay’s back. ‘What do you mean?’

Her eyes flickered to him and then away, as though she was
now afraid of admitting the truth – but she had begun, and she would not now stop. ‘I can’t afford him knowing, can’t afford him growing attached to Andrew, don’t dare allow him to … love his own son. I wish I could, but …’