Read The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1) Online

Authors: Cas Peace

Tags: #Dark Fantasty, #Epic Fantasy, #Sword and Sorcery

The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1)
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“I’ll talk to her,” he said shortly, unhappiness evident in his voice.

Sullyan had to be content with that, despite the unease she felt. “Be sure you do. But be gentle, Taran.”

She turned away as he glanced at her in sharp surprise.

Feeling somehow disquieted, Sullyan returned to the men. Elias and Aeyron had finished their leave-taking and Aeyron had mounted his stallion. Sullyan saluted her monarch before clasping Prince Eadan around the waist and boosting him, giggling, onto Drum’s back. She swung up behind him.

“Settle down, my Prince,” she advised when the boy kept wriggling around, trying to see everything at once. “We will soon be crossing the Veils.”

As she spoke, Aeyron turned to Elias once more. “Lord-General Anjer sends his greetings, my lord, and bids me inform you that Colonel Vassa and his command are ready to make the crossing.”

Since Elias’s hugely embarrassing and unnecessary invasion of Andaryon, the changes to his security arrangements were not the only new innovations. Concerned lest her King throw obstacles in her path regarding her return to normal duties now she had a young child to care for, Sullyan had entered into diplomatic discussions with the Hierarch of Andaryon and brokered an agreement between the two sovereigns that permitted the movement of troops between each realm. This remarkable concession was granted to each monarch’s immediate forces only, and permission had to be sought before such advantage was taken.

Due to the skill and strength required to open a specific trans-Veil access, as opposed to one that opened at random, only those of Master rank or above could perform the feat. But the convenience of being able to move a body of men about the country at a moment’s notice was so valuable that the slight restrictions didn’t matter. And so, a journey that would have taken Vassa’s company of foot soldiers three days to complete could now be accomplished in a matter of minutes.

Earlier that morning, General Blaine at the Manor had bespoken his counterpart in Andaryon, Lord-General Anjer, and had transferred Vassa and his men to the Plain surrounding the Hierarch’s Citadel. Now, Anjer had bespoken Aeyron to complete the maneuver. Elias gave the tall Prince a wave of his hand, and the Artesans present could feel the Master-ranked Aeyron parting the substrate to allow Vassa access to the castle.

Opening a trans-Veil tunnel anywhere near human habitation was normally considered a risky undertaking and was only attempted under duress, especially by those of lesser rank. But Robin had already supervised the clearing of the spacious parklands surrounding the castle, and Major Denny was even now out in the grounds ensuring they stayed that way. The concentration required to place the opening of the tunnel so precisely, however, was good exercise in control, and as Aeyron was working toward Master-elite, he needed all the practice he could get.

Through the courtyard gates, Sullyan watched as Aeyron’s Earth-based structure blossomed in the grounds. She had a vague glimpse of the snowy Plains around the Citadel before Vassa’s company came marching through and obscured her view. She made Elias one last obeisance, and then gave Robin the order to move out.

As she came abreast of Colonel Vassa at the head of his men, she stopped to exchange a few words. She was in daily touch with General Blaine, but it was courtesy to allow Vassa to pass on any last minute instructions. She also formally handed over responsibility of the King’s security and watched Vassa lead his men up into the courtyard. He dismounted to greet Elias.

“Carry on, gentlemen,” she called to her company, and rode beside Aeyron as they entered the tunnel.

Aeyron collapsed the structure as the dry cold of the Andaryan winter surrounded them. Anjer’s men, drawn up in battle formation on the Plain as a courtesy to Vassa’s troops and an honor guard for Aeyron, cheered and saluted their Prince and Princess. Anjer grinned and greeted them warmly.

“We are pleased to see you safely returned, my Prince,” he boomed, bowing to Aeyron. He turned to Sullyan and made a deeper, more lavish bow. “Highness, you are most welcome.”

She heard the men’s good-natured laughter, both demon and human, and glowered at the enormous man. “Anjer!”

His unrepentant grin didn’t fade, and the fact he’d used her title so pointedly gave her pause.

The large man shifted, and she saw that two other men had been concealed behind his bulk. Smiling broadly, their bronzed, weather-beaten faces alight with pleasure, the two men bowed before her as she slid down Drum’s ebony shoulder.

“Ky-shan, Jay! I did not expect to see you here. Are you well?”

She held out her hands to them and looked them over. She hadn’t seen them in years, but had received regular reports from either Pharikian or his son. She could see they had hardly changed.

Ky-shan was now in his middle fifties and was as stocky and powerful as ever. His blue eyes twinkled merrily in the dark skin of his face and he held out a meaty hand toward her. She took it, and her small hand was nearly crushed by the strength of the ex-pirate’s pleasure. His son, Jay’el, was a slimmer version of his father. He had grown a narrow mustache like Ky-shan’s, which added maturity to his youthful face. She gazed into his eyes and read deference there. Her smile widened.

“I have been hearing news of your conquest, Jay, and of your desire to learn new skills with which to impress your chosen lady.”

Jay’el smiled. “You did say I could come and learn if ever I wished.”

“I did indeed, and you will be very welcome. Is it your intention to come with us now?”

Jay’el turned to his father. “If you’re sure you don’t need me with the fleet?”

Ky-shan shook his shaggy head. “I’ve already told you you’re free for the winter season. Just be sure you’re back for the spring sailing. And make sure you work hard at your lessons. I don’t want Seyakin complaining his new son-by-marriage is useless.”

Sullyan raised her brows. “Have you made the betrothal already, then?”

The older seaman struck his son a playful blow on the shoulder. “She couldn’t take her eyes off the young blade!” he guffawed, causing Jay’el to redden. “But her father seemed to think a courtship of two months too short a time to acknowledge a formal betrothal. And he wanted some sign of this pup’s commitment to his daughter, so I suggested he might be willing to spend the winter in the study of his talents, seeing as he’s never troubled to do so before.”

“I take it Seyakin has no gift himself?” Sullyan guessed, and Ky-shan nodded. This made Seyakin’s willingness to accept the untitled Jay’el as a suitor for Princess Kyrie easier to understand. The lord of a far-off province whose eldest daughter was likely to be taken from him when she wed Prince Aeyron would value an Artesan in the family to receive and convey messages from her, and from Pharikian at the Citadel. The more useful Jay’el could make himself, the more chance he had of convincing Seyakin he was suitable.

“We will be pleased to have you, Jay,” she said, “although you will have to be prepared to work alongside others much younger than yourself.”

The young seaman announced himself willing to do whatever was asked of him. He took leave of his father and went to renew his acquaintance with Robin.

Sullyan turned to her brother and took an emotional leave of him. “Convey my love to our father, and to Ty, Idri, and the twins. Tell Timar I will try to visit him soon. But for now, my brother, I must go. I wish you good fortune in your new-found love, and I look forward to meeting the woman who has captured your heart. My soul will be easier knowing you have found someone able to share your duties as well as your bed. Take care of yourself, and call me if you need access through the Veils in order to visit her again.”

They clasped each other tightly and parted. Aeyron still experienced pangs of uncertainty whenever she left him, and she feared he would never fully lose the dependence he felt. Hopefully, Princess Lirina would fill the empty portions of Aeyron’s soul and he would then, once more, be complete.

She returned to Drum and seated herself behind Eadan, who had waited alone on the great black stallion with no sign of fear or apprehension. Sullyan reached through her psyche and took hold of the substrate. Her touch was sure as she caused it to part, and she led the men, their number increased by one, back to the Manor.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

I
n the darkened room, the scarecrow leaned back upon the bed pillows and gave himself up to the ministrations of the woman beside him. He felt the cool touch of her hand upon his brow and permitted himself an unseen smile.

He had finally “allowed” Sofira to persuade him into a more comfortable room than the dank, unwholesome cell beneath the palace. It suited him to accede to her request, not because he craved the comforts she offered, but because in bowing to her desires he encouraged her to believe he was responding to her care. And that bound her ever tighter.

Two months had now passed since his escape from exile, and he was beginning to understand the parameters of his new condition. Under the guise of recovery from torment—not an entirely false pretext—he was able to explore the capabilities he now enjoyed without exerting himself unduly. It quickly became clear his needs were changing. He had to improve the arrangements for the renewing of his physical strength, and easier access to the main parts of Lerric’s palace would facilitate this.

It was also more fitting to his status as Sofira’s betrothed.

Before agreeing to her pleas to nurse him, he insisted on certain strictures. He convinced her that the complete absence of daylight was vital to his recovery. She accepted this readily. Whatever he needed, he must have. Whatever it took to restore him to her, she would do. It was, she told him, her way of showing her deep contrition for the anguish she had inflicted upon him at his sham of a trial, and she would demonstrate her sincerity and commitment to him in whatever way she could.

The very next day, stonemasons and other craftsmen were summoned to the palace. With no thought for the wishes of her father, Sofira ordered all the windows on the ground floor walled up immediately and heavy drapes fitted over all the doors, so not even the glimmer of lamplight should creep beneath them. She had the layout of the rooms altered to allow her beloved the sole use of a full suite, and had a new doorway to the courtyard made so he could walk the moonless nights in private if he so chose. Her father was banished to the upper two floors of his own palace, and Lerric made no complaint.

The palace was largely deserted. Bordenn’s harsh winters routinely kept Lerric’s nobles away. It might make the process of government trickier, but at least it avoided the problem of awkward questions. The province, which produced mainly foodstuffs such as grain, cereals, vegetables, and meat, needed little in the way of attention through the unproductive winter months. Had it been otherwise, Reen’s rescue and concealment would not have been so manageable. As it was, Sofira completed her changes unhindered, and now the palace’s ground floor was a dark and gloomy place, inhabited only by Sofira, her scarecrow suitor, and his minions. And these arrangements suited Reen very well.

Lerric showed little interest in his daughter’s coming marriage. He had stated that his people, loyal though they were to Sofira and convinced of her innocence, would object to their Princess wedding a convicted traitor. Reen could not care less what the people of Bordenn thought, but Sofira herself came up with a solution to any possible objections.

“I told Father I intend to issue a proclamation, my love,” she said, stroking Reen’s brow. “I intend to show that Elias was manipulated by false witnesses, and that the conviction for treason should never have been passed. My father will append his seal to the decree, stating that he exonerates you of all taint of treason, and that he supports your inclusion into our family. Enough of our people were angry when Elias cast me off; the decree will come as no surprise.”

Maybe not, thought Reen, but his plans for the province might. Bordenn might have been willing to support their king when Lerric joined the rebellion against Elias’s father, King Kandaran, but they hadn’t been alone then. Three other provinces, all larger with mighty armed forces and strong leaders, acted as buffers between Bordenn and Elias’s wrath once Mathias Blaine defeated the rebel forces. It was only Lerric’s abjectly sworn statement pleading coercion by the other rebel leaders that saved his neck once the war was over. And now Lerric was under pain of death should he rebel again. Appending his name to a declaration such as Sofira planned was tantamount to signing his own death warrant. Yet Sofira was adamant Lerric would accede to her wishes, and Reen believed her. Her relationship with her father was one of the reasons Reen was here.

Tiring of her ministrations, Reen feigned weariness and bade her leave him to sleep. It was coming on to midnight and the men he had summoned earlier ought to return soon.

A shiver of evil pleasure shuddered through Reen’s flesh. He had been able to refresh himself from the same source once more without arousing suspicion, but he could not keep on that way. He needed servants who were whole, not half-devoured, and it was unsatisfying to restrain himself before he was fully sated.

He had sent his minions out with very specific instructions and told them not to return until they succeeded. He knew it would take them some while, but he also knew they would do as he bid them. They were aware of the consequences of failure, and they had no independent will of their own. And tonight he intended to feed to his heart’s content.

He watched Sofira depart with a stir of anticipation. The pleasurable fulfillment he would savor tonight was only one aspect of his new life. Soon, once he had full control and could relax his guard a little, he would sample once more the other pleasure, the darker pleasure, and he would have his fill.

He was fairly quivering with anticipation when the call finally came. He moved to the heavily secured door that led to the outer courtyard and slowly drew the iron bolts. Without opening the door, he stepped back. The night was clear; there would be starlight. It was not as hurtful as the glow of the moon, but he preferred to avoid it if he could.

BOOK: The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1)
8.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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