King's Artesan: Artesans of Albia trilogy (Artesans Series Book 3) Read online

  The little company mounted their horses and rode through the Veils. Looking back, they could see her standing by the gate, sentries of the Velletian Guard behind her, her left hand raised in farewell. Then Robin allowed the structure to fade and they found themselves back in Albia.

  Their reception at the Manor was more intense than any of them could have foreseen. Bull had always been popular—although more so since he had ceased to be an active Sergeant-Major—and the men of Sullyan’s command were gratifyingly enthusiastic in their welcome. When Taran found himself included in the raucous cheering and hearty back-slapping, he was left in no doubt as to their wholehearted inclusion of him into their ranks. Rienne was also greeted with pleasure, as her work in the infirmary had benefited most of the men in one way or another.

  The most enthusiastic greeting of the day came from the young kitchen boy, Tad. He had been waiting for days for Robin’s return, and when the Captain finally swung down from Torka’s back in the stableyard, the boy barely restrained himself from flying into Robin’s arms. Whooping with delight, he skidded to a halt in front of Robin and, instead of the childish hug he really wanted to give, he snapped a very passable salute which he had obviously been practicing. Robin returned his homage gravely, causing Tad’s young face to flush crimson, and then, to the boy’s everlasting delight, scooped him up and set him on Torka’s high back, giving the reins into the boy’s proud hands.

  “Walk him around a bit, lad,” said Robin with a grin. “Just don’t let him eat too much grass.”

  “I won’t, sir! I’ll take care of him!” breathed Tad, pure, undying hero-worship in his shining eyes as he gently nudged Torka into a walk.

  “Will he be alright on that huge stallion?” asked Rienne as they walked away.

  Grinning impishly, Robin cast the rapt lad a glance over his shoulder. “He’ll be fine, Rienne. Torka’s very gentle with youngsters.”

  They went up to the manor-house, passing the barracks and acknowledging the waves, cat-calls, and cheers from the men of the other companies. Seeing them, Baily came over, slapped Robin on the back, and grinned up at Bull. “Come back to do some work at last, have you, old soldier?”

  Bull scowled at him. “I’ll give you ‘old soldier,’ you insolent young pup. I could still teach you a thing or two, and don’t you forget it!”

  There was no sign of Parren as they made their way up the stairs and through the maze of corridors and halls toward the private quarters. Robin knew that Cal was no longer in the infirmary, and he silently communed with Bull and Taran as they neared their rooms. Tactfully, they left Rienne outside the door of her apartment to be reunited with Cal in private. Then they made for Bull’s rooms, feeling in need of some brandy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Later that morning, Robin had an interview with General Blaine. Despite the gravity of the subject, it was by far the most comfortable meeting he had ever had with the man, and their discussions were unmarred by resentment. Knowing enough about what could happen when Sullyan used the Staff, Robin realized she might need Blaine’s metaphysical help with the procedure, but he also wanted the General to know their suspicions concerning the Staff’s creation and the hypothetical reason behind Rykan’s challenge to Andaryon’s throne. Blaine listened gravely while Robin repeated the discussion they had had with Pharikian. He was obviously appalled at the thought of such a high-level plot against Artesans, but immediately grasped the reasoning behind their suspicions.

  “It is true that there was considerable opposition at court to Sullyan’s inclusion in our ranks,” he mused once Robin had fallen silent. He glanced up, briefly nodding his thanks as his aide, Hyram, placed cups of fellan on the table. “At each promotion I had to fight for permission to advance her. But it was never very clear whether the opposition was because of her gender or her other talents. She always had Elias’s approval, of course, or he would never have accepted her Oath, let alone appointed her King’s Envoy. But it is undeniable that there are nobles at court who are … less than happy, shall we say, about her rank and position.”

  He eyed Robin frankly. “You do realize that this is the reason I’ve always been so hard on her? The slightest slip or hint of misconduct and those nobles would have petitioned the King for her removal. Despite his support, he couldn’t have ignored them. It could all have gotten very awkward.”

  Robin set down his cup. “I didn’t really, sir, no, although I suppose I should have. I did know that she and Artesans in general, of course, had powerful enemies at court. She told me so when I first came here, but I never really considered how it might affect your relationship with her.”

  Blaine looked down at his hands. “We deliberately never made an issue of it.”

  Robin sighed. “Then perhaps the misunderstanding was not entirely my fault. Still, I behaved very badly, sir. I was too deeply involved to see things objectively, and I admit I have a tendency to be judgmental. I always resented her defense of your actions, and I could never understand why she didn’t resent your attitude. I was too simplistic, sir. All I could see was that although she’d saved your life some years ago, you seemed to be totally ungrateful. I know now that I had no business passing judgment. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for any lack of respect I may have shown you.”

  Blaine appraised the young captain, a small smile playing about his habitually stern mouth. “Well, well, you seem to have grown up at last. I’ll admit, I had my doubts when the Major first asked permission to bring you here, and I’ve regretted giving her that permission a good few times over the past two and a half years, as I’m sure you know! But you’ve finally justified her faith in you and all the effort she put into your training. I will have no reservations about your confirmation as a Master Artesan, or in approving your promotion, when it becomes appropriate.”

  Robin was stunned by Blaine’s open reversal of a long-held opinion. “Thank you, sir,” he said, trying not to stammer.

  His thanks were waved away. “I will keep in mind what you’ve told me about a possible alliance between this Lord Rykan and some high-powered noble,” the General continued, “although I can’t imagine any of the narrow-minded bigots in Elias’s court allying themselves with an outlander. None of them have the Artesan gift, so it’s highly unlikely that your suspected renegade is among their number. However, I will send a runner to First Minister Levant asking him to make some discreet enquiries. I will not burden the King with this unless we have firm evidence.

  “In the meantime, Captain, we should concentrate on getting Sullyan back where she belongs. You can tell her she will have my full support in whatever capacity she needs it. I value her, you know—maybe more than either of you know—and I’ve missed her more than I care to admit. But you can keep that last bit to yourself, Captain, and that’s an order!”

  Robin grinned broadly. “Yes, sir!”

  On returning to Bull’s rooms, he found all his friends gathered there. Cal was looking much more his usual self now that Rienne was back, and Robin greeted him warmly. He and the others had been discussing the immediate future, and as soon as Robin finished his greeting, Rienne demanded to know what Blaine’s reaction was. After accepting a glass of firewater from Bull, Robin relayed the General’s comments.

  “When are you going back?” Cal asked.

  “Tonight. I’ll bathe and change and collect a few things, and then I’ll be off. I don’t want to leave her too long.”

  “You know you can count on us for help and support, don’t you?” said Rienne. “If I can help Brynne at all before she decides to attempt this, you only have to come fetch me.”

  Robin gave her a warm smile. “Thanks, Rienne. We both appreciate it. I can’t say how long it’ll be before she’s ready, but you can be sure I’ll keep you informed. Now I’d better go change and get back to my horse before Tad rides him into the ground!”

  Robin needn’t have worried. When he finally reached the horse lines, he found his mount’s coat gleaming, curried to w
ithin an inch of its life. The leather harness had been cleaned and oiled, and the bit and buckles polished. Even Torka’s hooves had been picked out and rubbed with oil so they shone. Tad was sitting on the railing next to the tethered chestnut, talking quietly to the horse and feeding him pieces of apple, which the big beast took with gentle lips.

  Robin stood unobserved for a moment, smiling as he watched the young boy petting his horse. When Tad finally saw him, he jumped off the rail.

  “He’s all ready for you, sir. He’s had a light feed and some water, and your gear’s all ready. Shall I tie that pack on for you?” He took the small pack from Robin and secured it deftly to Torka’s saddle rings.

  Walking around the stallion, Robin eyed Tad’s work. “Did you do all this by yourself?”

  Tad glanced up at him, concern in his eyes. “Have I missed something, sir? Did I do something wrong?”

  Robin shook his head. “No, no, lad, quite the opposite. This would pass muster on parade day. How old are you, Tad? I think it’s time we spoke to the General about starting your cadet training.”

  The young lad flushed and puffed his chest proudly. “I’m thirteen, sir.”

  “Well old enough, then. Did you know that Major Sullyan was only ten when she began training?”

  Tad’s eyes grew large. “No, sir, I didn’t.”

  Robin smiled. “I have to go back to Andaryon right now, Tad, and I may be gone a few more days. But when I return we’ll put things in motion. How does that sound?”

  “Oh, thank you, sir, that would be wonderful,” breathed Tad. “But … sir?”

  “What is it?”

  The boy flushed again and stared down at his shuffling feet. Hiding a grin, Robin urged, “Speak up.”

  Tad raised adoring eyes and managed to whisper, “I want to be in your company, sir. I want to be under your command.”

  Robin let the grin out and ruffled the boy’s straw-colored hair. “Well, Tad, work hard at your training and do the very best you can. Remember, I will only take top class cadets. Now, be off with you. I’m sure Goran has duties for you.”

  This reminder of his current station caused Tad’s face to fall. Seeing the slump of his shoulders as he walked away, Robin called, “Just remember, lad, we all had to start somewhere. You can learn to work hard and obey orders in any situation. Don’t worry. It won’t be for much longer.”

  The boy turned and gave Robin a quick salute. “Yes, sir,” he said as he scampered off. Robin swung onto his gleaming mount and nudged Torka out of the yard, a foolish grin on his face.

  *****

  Almost a week passed before Sullyan felt she was as ready as she would ever be to attempt purging herself of the last bit of Rykan’s poison. Most of that time was spent in getting herself as physically fit as possible. She fenced with whoever would spare her the time, and Marik, Anjer, Ephan, Barrin, Aeyron, Robin, and even Pharikian himself were all pressed into her service. That the Hierarch should acquiesce was a surprise, as no one had seen him wield a sword for years. Yet he was fitter than he looked and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the few sessions he shared with Sullyan, the years falling away from him as he remembered his old skills.

  When she was not fencing, Sullyan was talking with Deshan or discussing the Citadel’s defenses with Anjer or schooling Drum—who needed regular strenuous exercise to take his mind off the Citadel’s many mares. She did, however, allow herself and Robin some relaxation, and they took to riding over the countryside in the afternoons as a means of forgetting the coming event.

  Inevitably, there came a day when she could put it off no longer. With Deshan and Pharikian, she had discussed every possible angle, every development and contingency she could imagine, attempting every experiment they could devise short of actually using the power in the Staff. She had even tried to attune herself to it one afternoon, the experience convincing her to leave well alone until it was unavoidable.

  One of her immediate concerns had been cleverly resolved by Pharikian. Their agreement that the artifact should be destroyed once she had recovered from her use of it still stood. Sullyan was confident that she could destroy it—provided she didn’t kill herself while using it—but was concerned about how the Staff might react. It had already caused untold damage in two separate realms, not to mention the men it had killed. The risk to Sullyan’s safety was something she had to accept—risk to her friends, she would not.

  It was unthinkable that she should attempt to use the Staff out in the open. The energies it contained were far too potent to risk unleashing them without some form of containment. She also knew that no shield created by an Artesan—not even the Hierarch, Senior Master though he was—would be strong enough to withstand the backlash which might occur if those energies broke loose. The only substance strong enough to resist and contain the potential power surge was that of the Veils, but she could not cross the Veils while carrying the taint of Rykan’s seed.

  Understanding her concerns, Pharikian proposed a way to overcome them. Sullyan could enter the Veils surrounded by a closed and shielded Andaryan structure maintained by the Hierarch himself. Robin, in Albia, would be on hand to lend his strength if needed. This would provide several benefits. First, it would be a neutral environment which would cause her no pain. Second, it would protect her from external disturbances. Third and most important as far as Sullyan was concerned, either the Hierarch or Robin would be able to maintain the shield should she lose control of the Staff, containing any fallout within the Veils and allowing it to dissipate harmlessly.

  After considering this suggestion, Sullyan approved it with one proviso. Despite her faith in Robin’s powers, she didn’t want him taking the responsibility for providing the Hierarch with back up by himself. If anything went wrong, she knew he would blame himself for the rest of his life, and she couldn’t countenance that. She stipulated that Blaine be asked to support Robin. Two Master-ranked Artesans would surely be strong enough to hold the construct firm in the event of a disaster.

  It was settled that they would use this method when Sullyan attempted the purging, and if all went well, they could duplicate the process when the time came to destroy the Staff. Having made this decision, she could find no more reason to delay. Robin would travel back to Albia to inform the General of their plan. Once Blaine had agreed, Pharikian and Deshan would stand at the Andaryan end of the structure, with Robin and Blaine at the Albian end. Sullyan would enter with the Staff and finally purge herself of Rykan’s lethal legacy. This, of course, was the only part of the procedure over which no one had any control. They had covered all the angles. It only remained to be seen whether Sullyan was strong enough or determined enough to succeed.

  Her last night in the Citadel before the purging attempt was spent under a somber, uncertain air. In an attempt to distract her from her fears, Pharikian invited her friends to supper in his private chambers. Only Ky-shan and his band were missing, as the pirates had left a few days earlier to take up their new duties on the east coast.

  Gathered that night in the comfortable privacy of Pharikian’s rooms were the Hierarch himself, Prince Aeyron, Deshan, Idrimar and an emotional Marik, Anjer and Torien, Ephan and Hollett, the Lady Falina, Baron Gaslek, and Robin. They spent a quiet evening with gentle music and good food. Sullyan had even managed to regain a little of the weight she had lost and no longer looked quite so thin. Her color was good, and she astonished Robin by accepting a glass of the Hierarch’s best red wine, a much sought-after Cheosian vintage, after Deshan told her that a small amount would do her good. The mood was relaxed and easy, and no one mentioned the coming trial.

  Once the meal was over and before the atmosphere became strained, the guests made their farewells, filling their voices with encouragement and their eyes with optimism. Pharikian tried to persuade Sullyan to stay on a while, but as soon as she decently could she left him to his family, desiring to be alone with Robin. Once their chamber door had closed and they laid themselves together on the bed, there was an
urgency, almost a desperation, to Sullyan’s lovemaking that had never been there before. Alarmed, Robin did his best to calm her, showing her the depth of his love and distracting her as well as he could. But once they were spent her tears came, and he held her close in loving silence.

  Her trembling only eased when he finally helped her slip into sleep.

  *****

  In the morning, Robin was pleased to find her serene. Showing no apprehension, she bathed and dressed, then packed her belongings for him to take back to Albia. It felt strange to Robin to be leaving the suite, and as Sullyan took a last lingering look before closing the door he knew she thought the same. This felt wrong somehow, and he hoped it wasn’t an omen. Sullyan’s parents had used these rooms—she had been born, and her mother had died here—and he knew she felt very close to them. It would surely wrench her heart to leave.

  He and Sullyan broke their fast with Pharikian and Aeyron, and no one referred to what she was about to do. Relaxed and friendly, the conversation followed trivial lines. Robin was due to return to the Manor at mid-morning, taking Drum with him and reporting to General Blaine to inform him of the final preparations. Once all was in place, they could begin.

  Pharikian accompanied them to the Citadel’s south gate to see Robin off. The Captain had Drum on a lead-rein and all their gear in packs. Pharikian had decided that the best place to construct the Andaryan tunnel would be far out on the Plains, well away from any habitation. Robin and Blaine would decide for themselves where the Albian end would be. Despite Pharikian’s assurances that no damage would occur in either realm should Sullyan lose control of the Staff, Robin’s experience in Hyecombe had left him nervous. He intended to make certain there were no buildings or people anywhere near the vicinity of the Albian structure.