The Gods of Amyrantha (69 page)

What lies has that old swindler spun this poor girl to keep her from asking too many awkward questions about his past?

'It pains him so much, not having been there to watch his son grow up,' Oritha sighed, oblivious to Cayal's cynicism. 'And it's one of the reasons he's so reluctant to bring another child into the world, I'm sure. He refuses to admit it, but I can tell how much he

fears dying unexpectedly and leaving another child to grow up fatherless, just as his son was forced to grow up without a father after his mother died.'

'And why, exactly, wasn't Ryda there to raise his son?'

'He was away buying gems when the boy's mother died,' she explained. 'By the time Ryda had returned, the boy had been taken back to Glaeba by his mother's family, and by the time he discovered where they were, the boy was almost grown and it didn't seem fair to take him away from everything he knew and loved. It pained him greatly, to accept it, but in the end, everyone agreed it was better to let the child stay with his mother's family in Glaeba.'

Cayal took a good long swallow of wine to hide his amusement.
You sly old bastard,
he thought, watching Oritha's credulous sympathy for her husband's loss and the plight of his undoubtedly imaginary son.
How long did it take you to come up with that pathetic sob story to stop her pressuring you for a child of her own?

He took a good swallow and put the wine cup down once he was sure he was in no danger of smiling. 'So, after buying up his gems in Glaeba and dropping in on his boy, Ryda was heading for Jelidia, you say?'

'That's what he told me.'

'Wasn't he worried about arriving in Jelidia just as winter will be setting in?'

'He didn't seem to be,' Oritha said. 'Would you like more wine, my lord?'

Cayal nodded and held out his cup for a refill. 'Did he leave any other messages for me?'

She filled his wine, put down the decanter and then turned away, going to the sideboard where she opened a drawer and took out a small roll of parchment, sealed with a dollop of red wax. She walked back to the table and handed it to Cayal.

'Ryda said you'd probably be back, and that when you arrived, I was to give you this.'

Cayal tool the small scroll, broke the seal, and opened it curiously. There was one short paragraph written in ancient Magrethan, a language so old only another immortal was likely to understand it.

When you're done fooling around with Brynden,
the note said,
get your sorry royal arse to Caelum and start wooing Elyssa. Brynden has no interest in aiding you and will screw you any way he can, but I fear he's going to have to prove that to you in person before you listen to me. We need quite a few of us to do this, Cayal, and we're going to have to do it when the Tide peaks. I can convince the others, but you are the only one on Amyrantha who can convince Elyssa to join us.

Underneath was a postscript.

And while you're a guest in my house, I would consider it a personal favour if you refrained from sleeping with my wife.

'The message is good news?' Oritha asked.

Cayal rolled the letter up, and studied her closely for a moment.
Tides, Lukys ... 'I'd appreciate it if you refrained from sleeping with my wife'?
That bordered on a dare.

And Oritha really was
very
pretty.

'It's ... mixed news. Did you say something about staying the night?'

She nodded, lowering her eyes. 'It's too late for you to head back into the city now, my lord. I'll make up a pallet for you in the guest room, if you like.'

'Haven't you got servants to do that for you?'

She shook her head. 'Ryda doesn't like servants. They distract him, he says.'

'That must make it very lonely out here for you, my lady,' he said, wondering what he was doing, even as he said it. He even spared Arkady a momentary thought, which actually hardened his resolved. Cayal was determined not to let that woman get under his skin any more than she already was.

How better to forget one woman than to entertain oneself with another? 'You must get very lonely on your own for months at a time.'

Oritha shook her head. 'My love for my husband is all the company I need, my lord.'

You lucky bastard, Lukys,
Cayal thought.
She really loves you.
But he was glad in a way, that Oritha had no interest in him. Despite the open challenge Lukys had left him in his letter, despite his desire to put Arkady out of his mind, his heart wasn't in the chase.

That was probably Arkady's fault, too, curse her.

Cayal wasted another two days at Lukys's house agonising over this strange turn of events that meant he would rather honour Oritha's marriage vows than go to the bother of seducing her. In that at least, Cayal had learned his lesson about running off with other immortals' wives.

When he finally rode away with enough supplies to see him through a month in the desert, rather than the few days it would take to reach Brynden's abbey, Cayal was still pondering this alarming tendency he had for complicating his life more than was absolutely necessary by finding himself attracted to the wrong women, when he finally reached the abbey. The thought of seeing Arkady again shoved any lingering desire for Oritha from his mind. His resolve not to let her get to him was weakening in direct proportion to his proximity to her.

The gates of the abbey opened for him as he approached, an acolyte met him in the courtyard, helped him dismount and took his camel away to be cared for. The abbot himself came out to greet him after that, bowing low, clearly having been briefed about the identity of this new arrival.

'My lord will see you now, your highness,' the saffron-robed monk announced, holding out his arm to indicate that Cayal should go first.

Pleased with this show of respect, Cayal headed in the direction the abbot was pointing, which was the entrance to the main hall of the abbey.

It was a long time since Cayal had been here. The last time was before he and Kinta had had their fling. He'd been welcome in Brynden's hall in those days. Or at least more welcome than he was now.

Brynden was waiting for him at the end of the hall, standing on the dais that, to Cayal's mind, always seemed to be missing an altar. The sun streamed in through the high windows behind him, shadowing the Tide Lord and making it impossible to see the expression on his face.

'I expected you back days ago,' Brynden said, as he approached. The immortal had shed his monkish robes and was dressed as a warrior once more. The time of Brynden's hiding was at an end, Cayal guessed.

'I was delayed.'

'Is Lukys not with you?'

Cayal shook his head. 'He's off gathering the others together. He'll be back soon, though. And then we can get things moving.' He glanced around the hall curiously. 'Where's Arkady?'

'Somewhere safe.'

There was a note in Brynden's tone that hinted at some hidden meaning in his innocuous statement.

'What does "somewhere safe" mean,
precisely?'

'The letter your friend brought me from Kinta spoke of the dire trouble that might befall her, should her husband's enemies locate her. She tells me both Jaxyn and Diala are involved in Glaeban politics, these days, too.'

'All the more reason for me to get Arkady to safety, Brynden. Where is she?'

'Somewhere her enemies will never to think to look for her.'

Cayal frowned, certain now, something was amiss.
Brynden has no interest in aiding you and will screw you any way he can,
Lukys's note had warned.

When will I ever learn to listen to you, Lukys?

'You wouldn't be this cryptic unless you knew I wasn't going to like it.'

Brynden smiled, which was a rare and frightening thing to behold. 'I'm enjoying the moment, Cayal. Don't spoil it for me by making me rush.'

By now, Cayal knew something was horribly wrong.
Tides, Arkady, what have I done? I handed you over to him without thinking ... What has he done to you?

'Where is she, Brynden?' 'Elvere.'

Cayal breathed a sigh of relief.

'I sold her into slavery,' the Tide Lord added with an openly malicious smile. 'If you want her back, your immortal highness, you can buy her at auction like any other bidder. Of course, that's assuming someone else hasn't already purchased her. And you may not want her at all, once she's been branded a slave, but then ... there never was any accounting for your taste in women.'

Cayal didn't answer, too angry to speak.

Brynden seemed inordinately pleased with himself. 'It's not the same, I know, as being able to make you suffer for the wrong you did me, Cayal, but it will have to do.'

Cayal could feel the Tide welling up in him, fuelled by his rage. This was what it had felt like the day he extinguished the Eternal Flame. Then it had been High Tide. Now, with the Tide on its way back, but still far from peaking, there was little he could do that Brynden couldn't counter with ease.

This was the constant state of stand-off in which the Tide Lords lived.

'Don't even think about attacking me, Cayal,' Brynden added, feeling Cayal's rage and the magical power he was gathering with it. 'You are in
my
abbey, surrounded by
my
people. They cannot kill you,

granted, but oh ... by the Tides, they could make you suffer until the Tide had turned enough for you to free yourself.'

It was a fair warning, and a well-timed one. Cayal could already feel himself wanting to level this place. Unfortunately he didn't have the power yet for anything quite as ambitious as that.

Fists clenched by his sides, Cayal held his temper in check by sheer force of will. 'You don't want to start a war with me, Brynden.'

'You
started the war, Cayal, when you took Kinta from me. It's too late to complain now, when the boot is on the other foot.'

Helpless, filled with impotent rage, and more than a little guilty that his hesitation may have given Brynden all the time he needed to rid himself of Arkady, Cayal pointed at Brynden, filled with the overwhelming need to destroy something.

'This thing between us isn't finished, Brynden.'

'Then you'd best pray Lukys really has found a way to end your life for you, Cayal, because it never will be finished any other way, if I have any say in the matter.'

There was no point in arguing. No point in any of this. Cayal turned on his heel and strode the length of the hall. He raised his hand, blowing the heavy double doors off their hinges as he approached them, for no other reason than it felt good to vent some of his frustration.

'Go to her, Cayal!' Brynden called after him, as he stepped through the remains of the entrance to Brynden's hall, the air filled with dust from the settling masonry. 'Find her if you can! Consider this a favour! Until you find her, at least, I've given you something to live for!'

CHAPTER 71

When Declan Hawkes regained consciousness, he didn't know where he was at first. It was still dark and the last thing he remembered was looking up to find the top floor of the north tower of Herino Prison crashing down on top of him. He risked moving his head and discovered that other than" being chilled, he seemed to be in one piece and, inexplicably, lying naked in the bottom of a small boat being rowed at a slow but steady pace by a shadowy figure he could not, at first, identify.

'You're awake,' the rower observed, without breaking his rhythm.

'Desean?'
Declan pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. The city of Herino was nowhere in sight. 'Where are we?'

'About twenty miles north of Herino, near as I can tell. How are you feeling?'

Declan took a moment to take stock before answering. 'A bit sore, a bit stiff, but surprisingly healthy. How did I get here?'

Desean smiled. 'A small miracle, I suspect.'

'Not so small,' Declan said, frowning. 'The last I remember was the roof caving in.'

The duke nodded. 'You pushed me clear as it fell, and to be honest, I thought you were done for. And then I heard you cry out and discovered that somehow you'd survived being crushed, although your clothes were alight. I dragged you clear, back into my cell actually, and was on the verge of accepting that saving you was probably the most heroic, stupid, and

undoubtedly
last
thing I would ever do, when the cell window shattered from the heat. You were stunned, but able to move. I dragged you to the window, shoved you out of it and then jumped out after you. I figured the fall to the water might kill us both, but it was going to be marginally less painful than burning to death. You lost consciousness when you hit the water, I suppose, but on the upside, it put out the flames and saved you from being badly burned. I towed you to the shore, stole a boat, and started rowing like there's no tomorrow, which I reason could well be the case if I'm recaptured.' He shipped the oars and rested his elbows on them. 'There's some rags stuffed in the stern that look like they might once have been clothes. Sorry I couldn't find you anything else on such short notice. I fear what the flames didn't take of your clothing, the water did. You must be chilled to the bone.'