David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

Cresenne smiled, though she didn’t look up. “Thank you.”

“It’s hard for me to think of Grinsa as a father.”

That did draw the woman’s gaze. Keziah wished instantly that she had kept that thought to herself. She wanted to win the woman’s trust. Making it clear from the outset that she was Grinsa’s friend wasn’t likely to make matters easier for her.

“You know him?”

“We grew up together.” Hiding the truth about Grinsa had become habit by now. She didn’t even have to think about it anymore.

“You know him well, then.”

“To the extent that anyone does.”

Cresenne seemed to weigh this, looking down at the baby again. For a time she seemed to wrestle with something-Keziah guessed that Cresenne wanted to ask if she knew of Grinsa’s powers. In the end, she seemed to decide against it.

“Were you ever his lover?” she asked instead.

Keziah smiled. “No.”

“But you care for him.”

“Very much.”

“I wish I’d never met him.” This she said quietly, as if to herself.

“If you’d never met him, you wouldn’t have Bryntelle.”

“Will he really take her from me?”

“I believe he will. He’ll grieve at doing so, but he’s stubborn and when he decides he wants something, he won’t be deterred. You can establish Tavis’s innocence, and you can tell us a great deal about the conspiracy. That’s what he wants, and if you refuse him, he’ll take her.”

“His own child.”

“Don’t be too quick to judge him,” Keziah said, her anger growing. “She’s your child as well, and yet you risk losing her to save yourself.”

Cresenne glowered at her for a moment, then looked away.

“You don’t understand.”

“Understand what? That you’re frightened. That you fear betraying the conspiracy lest word of what you’ve done gets back to the Weaver?”

Her gaze snapped up once more, her mouth dropping open.

“Yes,” Keziah said. “I know about your Weaver.”

“You’re the one who told Grinsa about him,” Cresenne whispered.

It was close enough to the truth. “Yes.”

“So he was protecting you in there.”

“I suppose.”

“But how did you learn of the Weaver?”

“That’s not important.”

“It would be to him.”

Keziah felt the color drain from her face.

“I expect it would be to your king as well, since he obviously knows nothing of the Weaver yet.”

Keziah started to deny this, but Cresenne stopped her with a shake of her head. “Don’t bother lying to me. If your king knew, Grinsa would have spoken of the Weaver openly a few moments ago.” She stared at Keziah for some time, looking thoughtful. “Have you betrayed him? Is that it?”

“No.”

“That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

She wanted to protest her innocence. It was one thing to play the traitor in her conversations with the Weaver, who walked in her dreams and never revealed his identity; it was quite another to have this woman thinking she had betrayed her king and her land. But as she continued to think about it, she realized that having Cresenne believe she was a traitor would help her continue her deception. The Weaver had access to Cresenne’s thoughts just as he did to Keziah’s. If the minister could make this woman believe that she was with the conspiracy, it might help her allay whatever doubts remained in the Weaver’s mind.

“If I was with the conspiracy, why would I be trying to convince you to tell them what they want to know?” She wouldn’t lie to the woman. Better to let Cresenne provide her own answers.

“To deflect the king’s suspicions, and Grinsa’s for that matter.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it? For all I know, the Weaver wants me to betray the movement. He doesn’t trust me as he once did. He’d probably like an excuse to kill me. So he gets you to befriend me, to wheedle information from me.”

He doesn’t trust me as he once did . Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps this woman could be trusted with the truth after all.

“From what I’ve seen of your Weaver, he doesn’t need an excuse to kill those who serve him, particularly if he loses faith in them. Besides, the answers I seek from you will hurt your conspiracy, not help it. You had an assassin kill Brienne. If you’ll admit that, it may allow us to win back Kentigern’s loyalty and avoid the civil war your Weaver wants so desperately.”

“Now I know you’re with the conspiracy. You know too much about the Weaver and his wishes.”

“You say he doesn’t trust you anymore. Does he know whose child you carry? Does he know who and what Grinsa is?”

Cresenne swallowed, nodded.

“What will he think when he learns that the two of you are together?”

“If you’re threatening me it won’t work. The Weaver has told me to find Grinsa. He’ll be pleased.”

“I’m not threatening you, Cresenne, and I’m not with the conspiracy. But I know the Weaver well enough to realize that if he’s had doubts about you already, your presence here with Grinsa and the child you share will only serve to deepen them.” She knelt before Cresenne, looking up at her. “Your time with the movement is over,” she said softly. “Surely you see that.”

There were tears on the woman’s face, and she brushed them away quickly, as if annoyed. “It’s not that easy. He can find me anytime he wants. If I try to leave the movement, he’ll kill me. I know it. I don’t get to decide when my time is over. Only he has that power.”

“He’s not as strong as you think he is.”

“Perhaps I’ve been wrong about you. If you were with the movement you’d know how foolish you sound. Of course he’s strong. He’s a Weaver.”

“So is Grinsa. And if you’d stop pretending that you feel nothing for him anymore, you’d understand that he wants to protect you. Both of you.”

“He can’t protect me. No one can.”

Keziah shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right. But you have two choices, Cresenne. You can remain with the movement, protecting its secrets and its leader. That path leads to Kearney’s dungeon and it leaves your daughter without a mother. Or you can trust Grinsa and me, and try to make right some of the damage you’ve done over the past few years. I don’t know where that path leads-none of us does-but at least you’ll get to find out with Bryntelle in your arms and her father by your side.”

Cresenne didn’t respond, and after several moments Keziah climbed to her feet again, intending to leave.

“I’ll let you think about it. If you need me I’ll be just outside the door.”

“Why did you say that before?”

“Say what?”

“That the Weaver isn’t as strong as he thinks he is. If you’re not with the conspiracy, how can you know all that you do?”

Keziah hesitated. There was so much peril in what she was about to do. “Were I to tell you, I’d be placing my life in your hands. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, not even the Weaver. Especially the Weaver.”

“It’s very difficult to keep things from the Weaver.”

“But it can be done.”

Cresenne’s eyes widened. “You are with the conspiracy,” she whispered. “But as an agent of the king.”

She nodded. “In a sense, yes. Although Kearney doesn’t know. He. . wouldn’t approve.”

“How long?”

“Not very. Just over a turn.”

“If the Weaver finds out-”

Keziah shuddered, but managed a wan smile. “I know. But I’ve found a way to conceal my loyalties while making him believe that I’ve opened myself to him fully. That’s what you must do, Cresenne, not only for yourself and Bryntelle but for me as well. And for Grinsa.”