David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

“Including your king.”

“Yes, including my king.”

“I see.” She eyed him for a some time, her expression revealing nothing of her thoughts. “You don’t look well, Lord Kentigern,” she said at last. There was no concern in her tone, no sympathy. She might as well have been commenting on the prevailing winds.

“I’m well enough.”

“Then perhaps you should tell me why you’re here. I’m certain that you’re no more eager to prolong this encounter than I am.”

He faltered, unsure of how to proceed. For better or worse, he had cast his lot with the conspiracy. He had even been so foolish as to sign a pledge to that effect-a token of his good faith, the Qirsi had called it at the time. Now it was a noose around his throat. Their failure would bring with it his downfall and the disgrace of his house. But while he had little choice but to help them, he needed first to know the truth. If their deceit ran as deep as he feared, he would have to find some way to undo all that he had wrought with his own betrayal.

“Very well,” he began. “I’ve received a message from Kearney. In it he claims to have evidence that the conspiracy was responsible for my daughter’s murder.”

The woman shrugged. “This is nothing new. Glyndwr and Curgh have been telling you much the same thing since Lady Brienne’s death. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes.”

“Then what makes this message so different that you’d ride all the way here?”

“This time he says he’s captured a member of your conspiracy, a woman who acknowledges her involvement in the murder.”

Jastanne sat forward, the blood draining from her cheeks. For the first time since he met her, she looked truly frightened. “Did he tell you her name?”

Aindreas shook his head.

“Did you bring the message with you?”

He pulled it from his cloak and handed it to her. Watching her read the note by the light of the lamp beside her, seeing how appalled she was by these tidings, the duke found himself sifting through his memory of their previous encounter. At no time had she denied that the Qirsi ordered Brienne’s death, because he never asked. No matter the truth, this woman hadn’t lied to him. Aside from Shurik, whose treachery lay at the root of all that had happened since, no one had. Not Javan, not Kearney, not the white-hairs. He had done this to himself.

“Is it possible that this is a deception?” she asked at last, handing the parchment back to him.

“You tell me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Was the conspiracy responsible for my daughter’s murder?”

She hesitated. It was only for an instant, but that was long enough. “This seems a strange time to ask, Lord Kentigern. You’re one of us now.”

“I want an answer, damn you!”

“I have none to offer. I don’t know who killed your daughter.”

“You’re lying! The first time we met you claimed to be one of the leaders of your conspiracy.”

“I am. But this is a vast movement, Lord Kentigern, and its success depends in part upon secrecy. Even its leaders don’t know everything. That way, if one of us is captured and tortured, he or she will not reveal enough to jeopardize the Cause. Surely you can understand that.”

There was a certain logic to what she said, but still he doubted her word.

“Do you think the king could be lying to you?” she asked again.

“No. Not that he’s not capable of it, but this isn’t how he’d go about doing it. This woman exists, and I have little choice but to believe that she had a hand in my daughter’s murder.”

Jastanne just stared at him, as if appraising a rival captain’s ship. “That puts you in an awkward position, doesn’t it? You sought an alliance with the movement believing that Tavis of Curgh was the killer, and that Kearney, in offering asylum to the boy and taking the throne with Javan’s consent, was an enemy of Kentigern. Now, I would imagine, you see the Qirsi as your enemy. What do you intend to do?”

Aindreas looked away. “What can I do?”

“Very little. I suppose that’s my point.”

He faced her again, longing once more to draw his blade. “Meaning what?”

“You pledged yourself to this movement, Lord Kentigern. You did so in writing, on parchment bearing your mark and seal. If you turn on us now, if you seek revenge for what you believe was our complicity in Lady Brienne’s murder, we’ll destroy you and your family. You’ll gain nothing, and lose all. You understand that?”

Of course he did. Truth be told, he had known it that first night, only moments after signing the paper and watching the Qirsi he had tortured-what was his name? — carry it from the chamber. They had defeated him, made him their slave, and he had forged the manacles himself.

“Yes,” he said dully. “I understand.”

“Good. I don’t know who this woman is, and despite your assertions to the contrary, I still think it possible that the king intended this message as a trick, to lure you to the City of Kings.” She paused, eyeing him once more. “Do you intend to go?”

“No.” He had given it little thought, but he knew that he couldn’t face the king and his fellow dukes. Not now, not knowing how he had betrayed them, how he would be disgraced in their eyes.

“Are you certain it’s wise to defy him so soon?”

“It’s what he’ll expect. I’m a rebel, remember. I don’t accept him as my king, and I see every effort at reconciliation as a thinly veiled attempt to force my capitulation. If I give in to him now, I’ll lose the support of the other houses opposing him. Surely you don’t want that.”

“No, we don’t.”

“I’ll send a message back to Kearney telling him that I remain convinced of Tavis’s guilt and that I won’t be lured to the City of Kings by Curgh trickery.” He forced a smile, though he felt ill. “As you say, that’s probably what this is.”

“I’m pleased to hear you say so, Lord Kentigern. I was growing concerned.”

He stood, the room seeming to pitch and roll. Was it the ship or his mind? “I should be riding back to Kentigern before I’m missed.”

“Of course. If you receive further news of this woman, you’ll let me know. Naturally I’ll do the same.”

“Naturally.”

She was watching, as if waiting for him to leave, but the duke continued to stand where he was.

“I’m surprised that I found you here,” he said, his gaze fixed on the floor, his hand again on the hilt of his sword. “You told me that your travels take you from one end of the Forelands to the other, and yet the one night I come looking for you on the Tarbin I’m fortunate enough to find you.”

“I told you, Lord Kentigern. I dreamed three nights ago that you would come to me. I was already in the Scabbard at the time, and so I sailed to Tarbin Port. I assure you, there was nothing more to it than that.”

Aindreas nodded, and let himself out of the chamber. To his surprise, there were no men waiting for him outside her door. Apparently they didn’t think he posed any real danger to their captain, even armed. Once more, he thought back to their first meeting when she had used magic to shatter her wine goblet, merely by way of telling him that the Qirsi movement had no need for Kentigern’s arms. That was why they didn’t bother guarding her. Jastanne was a shaper. She could have broken the duke’s sword with a thought. Indeed, she could have done the same with his neck.

He left the ship as swiftly as he could, retreating from the quay and returning to the small cluster of trees where his mount was tied.

As he approached the horse he realized that there was something on his saddle, glittering in the moonlight that shone through the bare limbs of the trees. Slowing, he glanced around, but saw no one. He walked cautiously to the beast and looked more closely at what lay on the saddle. It was a dagger, the blade of which had been broken in two. Instinctively he reached for his own blade, but it was still there. This one must have belonged to the Qirsi.