Chapter Nineteen #2
Her mouth tightened into a smile that was mostly grimace. “There’s been an…incident. I felt it prudent to take Cador into custody to prevent any unpleasantness. I’m sure it will prove to be unnecessary, but I refuse to take chances with your safety.”
“Cador wouldn’t hurt me.” Yes, he had, but Jem grew more and more certain with each word. “I trust him completely. He’s my husband. My partner. We take care of each other. We’ve had our struggles, but he won’t hurt me now.”
She regarded him silently for long moments. “I truly hope that’s the case, my dear.”
“Where is he? What happened?”
“Come. Let us discuss this in privacy. Have you eaten breakfast? We can—”
“Stop! I’m not a child! Stop coddling me.” He could admit he’d been eager to return home and nestle under his mother’s protective wing.
No more.
She stared at him wide-eyed. “Jem. You’re still my baby, no matter how old you grow.
“Tell me!” He flung out his hands, knocking over a broom resting against Dybri’s stall and sending a bucket rolling and clattering to the next stall. Cursing, he went after it without thinking, plucking the bucket from the floor, another horse snorting and likely expecting some feed.
As Jem turned back to his mother, he opened his mouth to once again demand answers.
Then he stopped. He looked back at the other horse, this one a huge stallion.
He stepped toward it tentatively. Another step when the beast made no move.
Reaching out, he scratched its muzzle and peered closely at the white speckles splashed over the gray horse’s face.
“Lusow?”
The horse whinnied, rubbing its muzzle into Jem’s hand.
“Why is Jory’s horse here?” Jem spun to face his mother, who watched him warily.
Perhaps Lusow had been exhausted by the journey south.
That was plausible. Jory could have taken another mount when he left with the chieftain to search for Cador and Jem…
when? Gods, what day was it? How long had they been at the castle?
On the mainland? It had all blurred into a jumble.
“When did Kenver leave with Locryn to search for us? Why didn’t Jory take his horse? He loves Lusow. Why aren’t they back yet? Surely if you sent a rider after them, we should have heard a message by now?”
There . Most people wouldn’t have noticed the flicker on his mother’s face before her expression smoothed into the familiar comforting, calm visage.
Jem was not most people.
“Where are they?” Gods, poor Jory, who’d only been kind to Jem. His voice rose. “What have you done?”
Her jaw clenched. “Jem. Calm yourself. This isn’t like you.”
“Where are they? Where’s Cador?” What if he’d been hurt? What if… His heart thudded, clammy sweat breaking out over his body. “Tell me the truth!”
“I will, but you must calm yourself. Cador is perfectly safe. They’re all safe.”
For the first time in his life, Jem wasn’t sure if he believed his mother, and he hated it more than he could bear. He hardened his voice, though it trembled. “Where?”
“In the castle.”
“The chieftain and Jory? Cador?”
“Yes. And his sister and the others. They haven’t been harmed, but they’ve needed to be…contained.”
The fist of fear and tension in Jem’s chest loosened a fraction. “Cador is unharmed?”
“Of course.”
“You say that as if I’m being unreasonable for fearing otherwise. Why did you tell us his father and Jory had left to find us?”
She glanced around. “This isn’t the place for this discussion.”
Jem planted his boots on the dusty floor, ignoring the stench of fresh shit.
Lusow and Dybri snuffled and shifted. “I’m Neuvella’s emissary on Ergh.
My husband is next in line to be chieftain.
You married me off to him for the good of Onan.
You said it was time to grow up and do my duty, and you were right. Tell. Me.”
Crossing her arms, bracelets jangling, Mother said, “I received word from the Holy Place that you’d arrived. That you’d tried to flee your husband, but he’d caught you and spirited you away on a horse to gods-knew where.”
“Because King Perran and his soldiers showed up!”
“Yes, but why were you running from Cador in the first place? No one knew.”
“I wasn’t! Well, I was, but…” He could see how the snatches of information could be misleading. He had run from Cador and the Erghians, and Cador had hunted him down. Loudly.
“I wasn’t about to take any risks, Jem. If Cador were holding you captive, I would have leverage. I received a confusing message shortly before this Jory arrived, so I tucked him safely away with the chieftain until I had more information.”
“ Tucked them away? Where? I’ve been in the dungeon.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Of course I wouldn’t put them there . The north tower has a suitable set of chambers. They’re perfectly comfortable.”
Jem wanted to scream. “But Cador and I have been here for days!” Yes, it was surely days at this point. “Why did you lie to us?”
“I had to discover Cador’s intentions.” She smiled softly. “He does seem to truly love you. I’m glad of it. Surprised, but glad.”
“Why surprised? You don’t think I’m lovable?”
She huffed, lips pressing together. “Don’t be ridiculous. I simply didn’t expect a barbarian of Ergh to appreciate your worth.”
“Yet you forced me to marry him anyway.”
“Yes. It was your duty—as you now agree. We all must do our duty to our people. As regrettable as it can be at times.”
“Yet now you’ve locked up Cador with his father? I don’t understand any of this! And I heard you and Tregereth—how did you know about the sevels and this horrible disease? How is Hedrok? Have you imprisoned him too?”
Her nostrils flared. “Of course not. But the mother went berserk.”
“Creeda?” Dread sank through him.
“Yes. The boy is dying. Suffering terribly as you know. Tregereth suggested easing his passage, but Creeda wouldn’t even consider it. Ranting and raving to the gods and barging into the kitchens in search of sevels. She assaulted a young maid.”
He thought of the cliff, torchlight on Creeda’s bitter face. “She’s been mad with grief for a long time.” The words scraped from his dry throat.
“Delen stepped in, and it turned into a full-on skirmish. The Erghians are unpredictable, and I must protect my people.” Her voice rose. “Everything has spiraled out of control.”
Indeed, it was the first time Jem could recall his mother ever seeming harried. She’s supposed to fix everything. The childish hope he’d been clinging to since leaving Ergh finally slipped from his fingers, a pang of grief replacing it.
There would be no returning to the simple life he’d once known.
Perhaps this was always his destiny as a prince to be mired in politics and lies.
His mother’s words echoed in his mind: “He does seem to truly love you.” Would she still think that if she knew he’d married Jem planning to see him maimed and kidnapped?
And did Cador truly love him? Who could Jem trust?
Mother blew out a long breath. “I’m sure cooler heads will soon prevail, but in the meantime—”
“You’ve imprisoned my husband and his people? Not only his. They would be my people too!”
“With Ebrenn poised to attack, we must be completely sure of our allies.”
Could Jem be sure of the Erghians who’d plotted to kill him? No. Not yet. Could he be sure of Cador?
Yes .
The answer to his second question reverberated through him like an iron bell. Yes. Yes, yes, yes . He trusted Cador. If that made him a fool, so be it.
Teeth gritted, loathing pinched Mother’s face.
“Perran is ruining everything as usual. This is exactly why we need to be less dependent on Ebrenn. With Ergh as a Neuvellan territory, if its northern mountains provide the oil we think it will, Ebrenn will no longer have it to hold over our heads. We can manufacture our perfumes without paying Ebrenn’s ludicrous prices. ”
Jem’s mind both raced and went blank. “Wait. What? You want to…take over Ergh?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “No, no, darling. Ergh will still have its chieftain. Neuvella will simply be guiding Ergh into this new era of unity. Helping. This dreadful disease must be cured.”
Guiding? Helping? “How do you know of it?”
Dybri stamped and snorted, clearly not appreciating his raised voice.
His mother glanced around at the empty barn and sighed.
Jem vaguely registered the hum of rain outside, remembering the drought and hoping the summer rains had extinguished the wildfires elsewhere.
The sting of smoke and orange skies seemed a lifetime ago.
Murmuring barely above a whisper, Mother said, “The clerics have long wanted to sink their hooks into Ergh. They’ve visited sporadically.
If there’s one quality they have in abundance, it’s patience.
They have slowly gained the belief of the religiously-inclined Erghians.
This sevel drought and ensuing sickness played right into their hands. ”
Jem had never heard his mother speak so frankly about the clerics or belief in the gods. “How long have they known about the disease?”
She shrugged. “Who can say? Years, I’m sure.”
“ Years ?” he shouted.
“Shh!” His mother’s eyes blazed. “Jem, this is a dangerous business. Keep your voice down.” At his nod, she added, “As I said, the clerics are patient.”
“But innocent children suffer.” He shuddered, thinking of Eseld and Hedrok and so many more.
“What better way to gain followers on Ergh? People desperately want to believe the gods can fix anything.”
“But you knew too?”
She sighed. “Ysella came to me two years ago, shortly after Ergh attended the peace summit for the first time in forever. Her loyal spies on Ergh had informed her well. There seems to be a link between the sevel drought and the disease; therefore Ergh needs our sevels at any cost.”
“‘Our’? Ebrenn is the only place the sevels grow.”
“Yes, but Ebrenn is part of the mainland, and control of the sevel crop must remain here. As much as I hate Perran, we’ve always been able to reach a bargain without bloodshed.
Ergh might be vastly outnumbered, but never underestimate barbarians.
Nor desperate, grieving parents. The sevels are more valuable than we could have guessed, and the mainland must control the crop. ”
“Even as children die in agony?”
Her face pinched. “It truly is a terrible thing. Most regrettable, but as a Neuvellan territory, we will soon provide assistance.”
Regrettable. Assistance. Neuvellan territory?
Jem’s throat was so dry he could imagine he’d swallowed dust or ashes. “For two years we could have at least shipped all our sevels to Ergh.”
“And leave none for our own children? A balance must be struck. We will send our best and brightest to help Ergh grow sevels again.”
He nodded dully. “In return, you’ll mine Ergh’s distant mountains, hoping to strike a new source of the oil you depend on Ebrenn for.”
“Exactly. And if Ergh can grow sevels, all the better. Even less dependence on the West.”
“And what does Gwels think of this?”
“They’ll think whatever I tell them, Jem. They are our closest allies. They’re family.”
Family. A word that had never seemed so very complex before. Jem asked, “What do the clerics get?”
“They’ll build temples and schools across Ergh. We might not share all their beliefs, but the gods do bring comfort and meaning to many.”
He thought of the crude altars to the gods in Rusk. Creeda and her bundle of twigs, her child dying in agony. They’d all been pawns in a much bigger game. Jem’s marriage, even if—
A thought so hideous struck him with the force of an angry stallion’s kick. Shivering, Jem could feel the blood drain from his face.
“Darling?” His mother reached for him. He stumbled back, thudding into the stall. Suddenly, the least frightening option was to mount Dybri or one of the other horses and gallop far, far away.
Yet he had to ask. “Did you know?”
She shook her head. “Know what?”
The words were like shattered glass on his tongue. “Did you and Ysella know about the chieftain’s plan?” They seemed steps ahead of the Erghians at every turn. “Were you going to let him go through with it?”
Her gaze sharpened along with her voice. “What plan?”
“To kidnap me. To, to—” He clenched his fists, the outline of the brand on his right hand feeling fresh and searing. “Cut off my hand and send it to you. Framing King Perran for it. So you would join Ergh in war against him.”
For an endless moment, Jem’s mother only stared, a chasm of despair yawning open inside him. Then fury erupted, her brown eyes flashing and her face flushing as she too clenched her fists. Relief flowed in Jem. She hadn’t known.
“Kenver planned this?” She bit out the question through gritted teeth. “He’ll pay for it. Oh, how he will pay.”
“No! Please. Enough. We must come together. Ysella and the clerics are right in that at least. I can forgive Cador and the others for what they did. Unity is the way forward.”
Perhaps it should have been a more complex process to reach forgiveness. Perhaps he should have exhaustively debated it with himself. Yet as the leaden grief and sorrow in his heart lifted free, he understood how very heavy it had been.
Jem didn’t want to carry it a moment longer. He wanted to run to Cador and finally—finally—kiss him again. It was difficult to breathe with the yearning.
“Jem?” His mother watched him with furrowed confusion and an impatient shift of her silk slippers in the hay.
“Yes.” He reluctantly refocused. “I forgive them. And after what happened with Bryok…”
“Tell me everything.”
It was a command, and Jem did as he was told, relaying the horrible, sad story.
From the chieftain’s plan to Cador’s change of heart, to Bryok’s betrayal that would have seen Jem lose his head.
He didn’t forgive Bryok, and that was all right.
He didn’t have to. Bryok was at the bottom of the Askorn Sea, and he’d terrorize Jem no more.
His mother engulfed him in a fierce embrace, and it was a wonderful luxury to relax against her and breathe in her lavender scent. Only for a minute, he could take comfort. But a minute only, for a hue and cry rose above the drumming rain.
“Western soldiers approach!”