Rebel's Cage (Book 4) (6 page)

Tired of the dead end his own ambitions had become.

He realised Jenn was watching him, but she said nothing for a moment. Her gaze drifted over the children at work, the horses unsaddled but hobbled at the other end of the clearing. Her expression was thoughtful, as though there were other considerations at stake here, things that even he didn’t know about. She kept her silence as she began to tidy up her books and papers, packing them into the ancient leather bag by her side. Then, her voice quiet, she said, ‘Do you have any other suggestions?’

Finnlay grunted. ‘Like what? We’re treating the symptoms of a disease we have no cure for. The Calyx is supposed to be able to tell us how to live outside the Enclave in freedom – but you can’t get the Key to tell us where it is. Unless you can find some way to get rid of Nash and Kenrick, things are only going to get worse.’ Those had once been his ambitions – to find the Calyx himself and to be at least a part of the battle to rid Lusara of the evil Nash had brought to it, the evil he’d corrupted the young King into.

‘Is it really that bad?’

He looked up at her – really looked. At thirty-two, she was still young, still beautiful, with those fathomless blue eyes, rich dark hair and an expressive oval face.

The years had wrought little change in her; the past had done that instead. Tonight he would tell the children the story of the Battle, without mentioning how this woman had never really recovered from that day, had never regained herself in the wake of her actions. Instead, she held herself together with a dignity she didn’t appear to believe in and a determination matched only by the man she had betrayed, his brother, Robert.

Like them all, she survived each year, considering hope, but not counting upon it.

Finnlay sighed. ‘No, perhaps it isn’t a crisis yet – but it will be one day. For five hundred years, Salti sorcerers have
sheltered in the Enclave. We’ve trained them, then they’ve gone back out to live normal lives, returning now and then, sometimes permanently. Now it’s too dangerous for any of them to live outside. Children born in the Enclave never have a choice. And,’ Finnlay held up his hand to make his point, ‘the only reason we can do this much is because you come along with us, using the Key to give protection nobody can Seek through.’

‘Finnlay,’ Jenn replied, her voice soft to keep her words from the children, ‘I know they’re restless, I know they’re bored. But what else can we do?’

‘Aye.’ Frustration melted into weariness. ‘What else indeed?’ Finnlay climbed to his feet and grabbed his saddlebag. ‘I’m going to the stream to wash. I just thought I’d warn you, though, Andrew wants me to tell the story of the Battle again tonight.’

He turned then, not wanting to see the look on her face, nor the shadow in her eyes.

*

With icy-cold hands, Jenn quietly lifted another log and placed it on the fire in front of her. She had quite a blaze going now, despite the fact that supper had been finished an hour ago. Even so, she couldn’t quite stop the shiver that persistently ran down her back, no matter how many layers she wore.

Too many years spent living in the heated caves of the Enclave, no doubt: hard for her body to remember that she’d grown up in this forest, had run around here, winter and summer, from the age of three until seventeen when, chased by a squad of Guilde soldiers, she’d come across Finnlay and Micah and … Robert.

His quick thinking that night had saved her from punishment. His mystery had drawn her in much further, to the point where she’d lost the ability to extract herself. That story was still ongoing, even as Finnlay sat before the children, telling them of another chapter, one she already knew far better than she cared to admit.

He’d had a lot of practice over the years, telling this tale. He did so now with skill and patience, not minding the odd
question thrown at him, carefully leaving out sundry details here and there – such as how the Malachi girl they’d captured had in fact been the same girl Micah had fallen in love with. How Finnlay himself had vowed to keep Jenn away from the battlefield, but that he had failed and instead, allowed Jenn to come between Robert and Nash, to stop them fighting, to prevent either of them dying that day.

And he said nothing of the hours after the battle, when Robert lay dying and when Jenn had saved his life with a lie.

No, Finnlay’s story covered only the historical aspects of the battle: the men who’d fought, those who had been wounded and those who’d died. He told of how sorcery had been used and how well it had worked. He covered the strategy, the tactics and the tricks each army had played upon the other – and he could do none of it without talking about his beloved brother.

Jenn watched it all from a distance, keeping the distance inside her as well. The children, Andrew amongst them, listened in rapt silence, smiling, frowning, eyes wide as though this was the first time they’d heard any of this – but of course, this time they were actually here, in the middle of Shan Moss, though some distance from the actual battlefield. Somehow, hearing this story while surrounded by the same trees, breathing the same air, brought the whole thing to life.

Dreams of glory, of victory and freedom. She could almost see them in the children’s faces – and it was impossible, at this age, for them to understand that the Battle of Shan Moss had been none of those things, but instead, a long series of mistakes – some of which had been hers.

She drew in a deep breath. Young Helen, Finnlay’s beautiful daughter, sat beside him, head on his shoulder, his arm around her. Quiet, thoughtful, gentle and kind, it was hard to imagine that he had sired her: Finnlay, with his quick temper, his impatience and demands for instant results. No two people could be less alike – yet they were as close as father and daughter could be and it always warmed Jenn’s heart to see them like this, quiet and at peace with the world, if only for a few hours.

On the other side of Finnlay sat the sixteen-year-old twins, Zea and Neil. Where Neil, like Helen, was a fairly quiet boy, Zea could be as demanding and impatient as Finnlay. Their parents often despaired of her ever settling down. Sitting behind Neil and watching everything with an eagle eye was Liam, at seventeen the oldest. Finnlay had wanted to leave him behind, but Jenn had insisted he come along. He, perhaps more than any other Salti child, chafed at the restraints placed on him by King and Guilde, by the circumstances which made their prison so much worse these days. He had a good mind, however, and with the right teaching, Jenn was sure he would grow up to be a natural leader.

Right in front of Finnlay sat Sayre, his freckled face and bright red curls reminding her perhaps a little too much of Micah – though his parentage was in no doubt at all. More often than not, his gaze would drift to Arlie’s daughter, Damaris, who sat on her own a little, idly drawing something in a book she’d brought with her. Beside Sayre sat Andrew and his best friend, Guy. Andrew listened to Finnlay’s story with a knowing smile on his face, which would have worried her if she hadn’t seen it a thousand times before. This was his pleased look, where he’d done something that others had liked, and was enjoying it so much more as a result. It was hard to believe that he was already fourteen. Guy contented himself with listening, laughing along with the others, saving his questions for later, when he could be as blunt as he cared without getting into trouble. Andrew had once told her that was one of the things he liked most about his friend – that he could rely on getting the truth, no matter how grim it was.

And in another ten days, she would have to give him up again, have to let him ride down from the mountain with Micah, head back to his home at Maitland Manor for the winter. She would have to do it knowing that his powers had still not manifested, that he would go without the protection he needed, even if he didn’t know it. Some days, that worry alone was enough to make her ill.

The noise rose as questions flowed from the children. One voice caught her attention. It was Liam.

‘But, why did the army flee? Why did Kenrick turn and run from Duke Robert? They still had the advantage of numbers. With Duke Robert so badly injured, they would’ve had a good chance at victory. Kenrick would have known that – and yet he still ran. Why?’

Yes, indeed Finnlay was well-practised telling this story now – and he refrained from looking at Jenn. ‘I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess that, as a boy of fourteen, he didn’t have the experience to fight a battle of that size. His father had been killed the day before and Nash, the man behind the entire thing to begin with, was also badly injured in the fight with Robert. I don’t think Kenrick believed he could …’

‘I heard,’ Neil said knowingly, ‘that Duke Robert did something to Kenrick some time before the battle. That he put a thought in the boy’s head so that Kenrick would always be afraid of him. Is that true?’

Now Finnlay did glance at Jenn and she nodded. This was a truth they could give away without cost.

‘Yes,’ Finnlay turned back to the children. ‘Though I have no idea how long something like that would hold.’

Jenn quickly looked at Andrew, wondering if he would react to this new knowledge; he was the only one here who knew the King. But Andrew’s response was negligible, the barest blink.

‘But,’ Sayre leaned forward, ‘if your brother is the most powerful sorcerer ever born, couldn’t he make a fear like that last forever?’

Finnlay’s gaze darkened then, and as though she sensed something was wrong, Helen shifted and snuggled closer to her father. In the silence, Finnlay paused, then said softly, ‘Yes. Robert could make that fear last forever.’

*

Finnlay willingly took the first watch, leaving Jenn and Arlie to rest after the day’s exertions. He said nothing to them, but the truth was telling the story of the Battle, answering the children’s innocent questions, had left him feeling unsettled and unable to think about sleep.

He’d had plenty of nightmares in the days following the Battle, nights during which he’d recalled his own close
encounters with Nash, times when he’d almost died, when the feeling of helplessness had been so overwhelming, he’d almost welcomed death.

He’d been lucky – and so had Robert. It had taken Robert three weeks to get fit enough to travel after the Battle, and then, only on a litter. Finnlay had stayed with him the whole time, and for another month after that as he nursed him to the point where he no longer worried that his brother might die of either his wounds or some subsequent fever. Robert’s injuries had appeared incurable then, the scar on his back still breaking open, the cut in his side weeping blood whenever he moved too much. By the time Finnlay had agreed to leave and return to the Enclave, Robert had been walking short distances for a few days only and it was almost impossible to believe that he would ever heal completely.

He had word every now and then about Robert: Murdoch worked with him all summer, then spent winter at the Enclave, when Finnlay would talk to him for hours about Robert’s exploits, but quietly and secretively. Of Robert’s health, Murdoch said nothing. Finnlay knew Jenn didn’t want to know. Taunting her now was not high on his list of priorities.

There was something still left undone and his own restlessness was hounded by it. Despite what Murdoch told him, he really had no idea what Robert was planning.

The camp settled down in the usual manner, with fires banked, horses watered, beds made up and good-humoured bickering and some laughter until, long after the moon had risen, the clearing was silent of all but forest noises and the occasional shuffling of the animals.

Finnlay chose a comfortable spot just on the edge of the clearing, where a tree had recently fallen, giving him a trunk to sit on and a branch to lean back against. Settled, he closed his eyes and took out his
ayarn,
letting his power flow through the small stone, sending his awareness out into the darkness, testing the area for any dangers, Seeking for safety as his charges slept.

As usual, there was nothing and content, he opened his eyes – to find Andrew standing in front of him, wide awake, a
blanket draped around his shoulders. ‘Wouldn’t you be warmer sitting by the fire?’

‘Wouldn’t you be warmer tucked up in bed?’

The boy looked over his shoulder at his sleeping friends then sat on the log beside Finnlay. He pulled his feet up and wrapped his arms around his knees. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

‘I gathered that.’

‘Really, you could let Liam or Neil take a turn at night watch, couldn’t you? Wouldn’t that be good practice for them?’

‘And if they fell asleep and we were attacked?’

Andrew’s eyes crinkled up at the corners. The moon was very bright tonight, dusting the entire clearing in light enough to read by. ‘I’ll keep watch with you, then, and we can keep each other awake.’

Finnlay grinned. Andrew had an infectious smile, a way about him that made it impossible to dislike him. Despite the fact that many of the Salti children were envious of the freedom Andrew enjoyed living at Maitland, none of them openly hated him for it. Of course, Andrew was always happy to bring them gifts or books that they’d asked for and refrained from talking for hours about his exploits at court or other places. He lived in two worlds, this boy, and yet didn’t seem to be at home in either of them.

‘So,’ Finnlay murmured after a moment, ‘why couldn’t you sleep?’

‘Just thinking.’ Andrew rested his chin on his knees and gazed into the darkness. ‘About Nash and Duke Robert.’

‘What about them?’

‘What’s the Word of Destruction?’

Finnlay blinked. ‘Pardon?’

With a flash of blue eyes, Andrew grinned. ‘No, I don’t mean tell me the actual word—’

‘Since I don’t know it—’

‘I mean,
what
is it? I know it was created centuries ago and given to the Key, and the Key gave it to your brother – but what is it? How does it work? Did Duke Robert ever learn more about it?’

Finnlay sighed. ‘I can’t tell you what he’s discovered lately – if anything. As far as I know, he’s only ever used it once, the day you were born. Having seen the effects, I’m not sure I want to see him using it a second time.’