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Authors: Anna Mackenzie

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BOOK: Donnel's Promise
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He raised his empty palms with a shrug.

‘What about Athan's death: did you learn any more?'

‘Officially, his heart was not strong enough to match the strain of recent events,' Nolan answered. ‘Unofficially: poison has been mentioned.'

‘Vormer had him murdered?'

‘We'll likely never know.'

‘Will Ciaran know she's widowed?' An image dredged from a dream flickered through Risha's mind: Ciaran
weeping beside a deathbed. If only she had looked to see whose body lay in that bed, might she have prevented this? Risha swayed as the world darkened around her.

 

‘—get her back to bed.'

‘No.' Risha shook off Fenn's hand. ‘Why?'

There was a wary silence. ‘We thought you about to faint,' Nolan said. ‘Lillet has gone to fetch Minna.'

‘You didn't answer when I spoke to you,' Fenn added.

‘I'm fine,' Risha said. ‘I was distracted, that's all.'

There was a moment of silence before Nolan shrugged. ‘It's not as if our news is easy. My lady, it's lucky we did not return to Havreport. Vormer is currently with his army, while Thatton, as his deputy, heads the Council. Already there are tales of old scores and slights being settled. The guard, or what's left of it, is scattered; Tyne and Lombard have been removed, replaced by men of Vormer's choosing. Anyone who wavers is supplanted; a third of the councillors are deposed. They say the dungeons are overflowing.'

‘No!'

‘Thatton's family has governed Saithe for generations. It gives Vormer control of both Havre's ports, its Council and army.'

‘What of Commander Bruer?'

‘Ah, well, there Vormer missed his play. He might hold Havreport, but Bruer holds the navy. They sailed before Athan's death.'

‘To where?'

Nolan raised an empty palm. ‘That we don't know, but Bruer's loyalty lies with you, my lady. His goal will be to secure your safety.'

‘Believing me in Westlaw?'

He answered with a nod.

‘If his plan was made before Athan's death, Vormer will pass it on to Goltoy. Bruer will be sailing into a trap.'

Nolan grimaced. ‘It's possible.'

Gorth hissed. ‘Vormer's a fool to trust Goltoy. He's handing him Havre on a platter.'

‘Perhaps it's as well that Athan began raising an army,' Risha said.

Croft made a disparaging noise. ‘Bunch of untrained recruits, with our experienced commanders stood down and the guard dispersed or destroyed.' His eyes locked on Risha. ‘We'll need someone to rally the loyalists.'

‘Our first priority is to keep Arishara safe,' Nolan said. ‘It's not yet clear what Goltoy intends, or when he'll discover that he doesn't hold the trump card he believes. For the moment we sit tight.'

Risha shook her head. ‘Given we can't yet assume he knows the truth, our first priority is still to get word to Donnel. How long would it take to ride to Fratton?'

‘You're in no condition to ride anywhere, young lady.' Minna stood in the doorway with a brace of rabbits, soft and pliable, dangling from one hand. ‘There's another storm in the making. You were thinking going out in it would be good for your health, maybe?'

Thunder rumbled, long and purposeful, underlining her words. ‘Lillet, if you could spare me a hand, I wouldn't say no. Seems like I've more mouths to feed every time I turn around.' She sounded thoroughly satisfied.

As Croft deftly skinned the rabbits and Lillet sliced onions, the smell cutting sharp through the room, Risha took up her argument. ‘Nolan? How long?'

He studied her. ‘Three or four days to Churton, another to Bethanfield, from there I'd be guessing — another five?'

‘Four from Deeford,' Gorth supplied.

‘You'd save four days by crossing the lake and picking up horses in Caledon or one of the smaller towns on the eastern shore,' Fenn said.

There was a thoughtful silence. Risha glanced at Minna's broad back. ‘With my father in Fratton, we could reach him in a handful of days.'

‘You might recall that yesterday you couldn't walk unaided across the yard,' Minna said, without turning around.

Risha ignored her. ‘Gorth, what do you suppose Donnel will do when he hears of Goltoy's plans to marry me to his nephew?'

‘With half his army in Fratton, a few days from Westlaw's eastern border? A fool could work that out.'

‘And whatever else Goltoy might be, he's not a fool,' Risha said. ‘He intends that my father should invade Westlaw. Abducting Lyse was a goad; the marriage announcement bait in a trap. He wants Donnel to attack — which makes it doubly important that we convince him not to.'

Not even Minna disagreed. Risha raised her chin. There was a look of amused admiration on Croft's face, wariness on Nolan's. She smiled at him sweetly.

‘And who will best be able to do that?'

M
inna won a concession that they should wait out the storm, Gorth keeping the peace by offering to ride ahead regardless of the weather.

‘I’d sooner travel at your side,’ he told Risha, as he readied to depart, ‘but Minna’s right: you’re in no state to get a soaking. I’ll let Donnel know you’re not far behind.’

‘The storm will blow through in a few days,’ Fenn said. ‘If Donnel can hold his impatience in check, things might yet swing to our advantage.’

Nolan remained uneasy. ‘I still say Risha is safer here.’

‘Until Vormer’s spies come calling,’ Croft said, earning himself a dark look.

‘We’ll have options once we reach Caledon,’ Fenn said. ‘If the news from Fratton is unpromising, or Risha tired, we needn’t go on.’

Gorth slung his saddlebag across his shoulder and looked at Lillet. ‘You’re sure you’re up for a crossing in this weather?’

‘I’ve been sailing the lake since I was six. Once I’ve dropped you off I can help my father find horses.’ She
dimpled at Nolan. ‘Though I doubt there’ll be any as fine as those you have.’

Webb spoke up. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. Storm’s no bother to me: I could ride them round to Deeford, and if I’m too late there, bring them on to you in Fratton. Just in case.’

Nolan looked thoughtful. ‘That would spare Minna some awkward questions if anyone comes looking.’

The woman folded her broad forearms. ‘I’ve talked my way out of worse, but it’s up to you. I’d be mighty tempted, once you’ve gone, to hitch them up to the plough.’

Nolan gave her a withering look — though Risha doubted anything could wither Minna’s stolid calm. ‘It would give us another option, one direction or the other,’ he said slowly.

Risha wondered about the scenarios he was juggling in his head, but there was no chance to ask him in the rush as first Gorth and Lillet and then Webb departed.

By afternoon the sky was charcoal and rain fell straight and heavy. ‘Will they have reached Caledon yet?’ she asked Fenn, staring out at the dismal landscape.

‘Almost certainly. They’ll be wet but no worse.’ Risha coughed and Fenn handed her a measure of Minna’s tonic. ‘Whereas you would almost certainly be worse. Make the most of the chance to rest, Risha.’

She knew the advice was sound, but accepted it without enthusiasm.

 

The storm blew for two days. On the third Fenn conceded the weather fair enough to sail to Caledon. ‘Tomorrow,’ she said, grinning at the mutiny in Risha’s face. ‘There’s
not the hurry there was. Gorth will be in Fratton by tomorrow night or soon after.’

‘As we might have been.’

‘That or buried,’ Croft said, returning a jaunty smile to the hard look she gave him.

The following dawn saw them gathered on the shore of CaledonWater, the wind cutting chill from the
northwest
beneath a sky stippled with pink. At the northern tip of the headland a tree leant precariously above the water, half its roots clutching at air. In another year, maybe two, it would lose its grip on the land.

Nolan loaded their gear and Fenn poled
Lakebird
into deeper water. A handful of goats grazing on a sweep of turf raised their heads to watch. The sail flapped twice then snapped to attention, sending the boat scudding out into open water.

Their crossing was choppy and slow as Fenn wove them north along the ragged lip of the wind. Risha sat swaddled in blankets, queasiness stirring her belly.

Mid-crossing, Nolan settled beside her. ‘Are you all right? You look pale.’

‘It’s just the crossing. And that my lungs feel as if they’re pressed in a vice each time I try to draw a full breath.’

‘Minna warned it would take time. At one point, it wasn’t certain you would live.’ He smiled. ‘I’m more than glad that you did.’

 

The path Fenn led them from the docks was as
dog-legged
as the course she had sailed across the lake. Risha soon became lost in the tangle of streets, but knew Olli’s house as soon as she saw it. How not, when the grief
she’d brought to his door still sat like a rock in her chest?

The man who answered their knock was just as she remembered, stocky and strong, his face seamed and darkened to a texture of ill-kept leather. His greeting was warm. ‘Come in. We weren’t sure when to expect you. Lillet is out but she won’t be long.’

He led them into a kitchen Risha remembered too well. Her eyes were drawn to the table. Olli’s hand closed on her shoulder. ‘None of that now.’

She couldn’t help herself. Her eyes scoured the scrubbed wood, memory placing Sulba upon it, Olli’s hands staunching blood from the wound he had earned saving her life.

‘What’s done is done,’ Olli said. ‘Sulba made a sacrifice he thought worthy.’

‘But shouldn’t have had to make.’

‘Pulling off scabs only worsens the scars.’

‘Sit,’ Fenn said briskly, and set the kettle to boil.

‘Any news from Fratton?’ Nolan asked.

‘As many rumours as you care to hear, half of them conflicting. It seems Muir had the insurgents isolated before Donnel arrived, which doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have welcomed a little help,’ Olli said. ‘Margetta will be running out of advisors, the rate they turn.’

‘What of my father?’

‘When we heard he’d crossed into Fratton, some were convinced he was riding against Caledon.’ A raw smile passed briefly across Olli’s face. ‘My guess would be that rumour started in the palace when someone found Quilec already hiding beneath his bed.’

‘But there’s been no word recently? From Barc, or—’

‘Barc would be unlikely to trouble me with his plans.’

Olli had blamed the man, at least in part and perhaps rightly, for Sulba’s death, Risha recalled, though he had always been a friend to her. Without Barc’s help she would still be in Torfell.

‘You’ll see your father soon enough,’ Fenn said. ‘And before then he’ll have learnt from Gorth that you’re safe.’

Though the woman’s words were designed to reassure, to Risha they somehow rang hollow. She placed her palm flat on the table, one finger tracing a path around a darkened knot in the wood.

 

A day later they rode north. Nolan grimaced on sight of their mounts, designed for dependability rather than speed. ‘At least no one will suspect us of being deserters from the Havrean guard.’

Fenn studied him, head tipped to the side. ‘
No-account
hirelings who have gulled a new widow and her daughter,’ she said, her wolfish grin making her look anything but gullible.

‘We really should have known better,’ Risha agreed, ‘given how disreputable they look.’

Croft leant sideways to spit on the road. Nolan simply rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw.

By midday Risha was exhausted. She had known she’d find it hard, but it was all she could do to remain upright in her saddle. Nolan called a halt at the first hamlet they reached.

‘At this rate Webb will have given us up and ridden north before we reach Deeford,’ she complained.

‘Sleep,’ Fenn advised. ‘You’ll do better tomorrow.’

It proved true. With a rest at midday she managed a full day’s ride, but was unable to hide how much it cost
her come the evening.

‘It will be easier tomorrow,’ Nolan promised. ‘We should make Deeford by late morning.’

The road, which ran roughly parallel to the river, held few travellers, and those they met offered no more than a cautious nod.

‘You can’t blame them,’ Croft muttered, as they passed a cart holding a family of silent, wide-eyed children perched among a towering jumble of possessions. ‘Too much uncertainty is no kind of life.’

Risha began to wonder what the past year had been like for Margetta. ‘Has it been so bad?’

Croft tossed his chin towards an oncoming trio pushing their belongings in a dusty handcart. ‘Looks that way.’

At Deeford, Nolan settled them in one of three wayside taverns and went in search of Webb. While he was gone Risha slept, waking groggy and hot as the afternoon faded. The room was stuffy and still. She rolled onto her back. A fly buzzed.

The buzzing was inside her head. She raised a hand to her temple. It was a throb, growing more forceful, but not exactly like pain, more a pressure, pushing inward. Or … outward.

Nonno?
She sent the questing thought and the buzzing receded. Then returned.

Ciaran?

She shook her head. It was nothing. Sitting up she looked around. She’d been so tired she’d collapsed onto the bed without even stopping to loosen her clothes. That was why she was hot. As she stood her vision swam, bees buzzing before her eyes, darting black and gold
across the room. They weren’t bees, they were banners in Westlaw’s black and gold. The buzzing grew into cheering, hundreds of voices joined in a hoarse, rhythmic chant. Her head began to ache.

There was a clatter of sound. Risha shrank away from it.

‘Risha! What’s happened? Are you all right?’ Fenn pulled her to her feet. Risha’s eyes focused slowly. ‘Are you unwell?’

‘No. I …’ She knew suddenly. ‘It was someone trying to find me. Not Nonno or Ciaran. Someone else. I’m … I’m not sure they mean me well.’

Fenn led her to a chair and called Nolan.

‘You’re sure it wasn’t your illness?’ he asked. ‘When you were delirious …’

‘No. And anyway, the delirium is mixed with the visions somehow; that was how I saw Ciaran.’ She pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘This was worse, like someone trying to force their way in. Or — not that exactly. I can’t explain.’

‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘there’s not much we can do, save not leaving you alone.’ He looked at Fenn. ‘We’ll ride on in the morning. Webb should have been here by now, but we can’t wait.’

She had worried him, she knew. ‘I’m sorry.’

He waved her apology aside. ‘Do you feel like eating? You look peaky.’

‘I feel peaky.’ Rallying, she smiled to please him. ‘I’m sure I could eat something.’

She had to force herself; her stomach was unsettled and the cider Fenn gave her made her light-headed.

That night Risha dreamt.

The face that swam before her was swathed in shadow. The man — she thought it a man — stood at the centre of a stone cell encircled by narrow windows, each a pace from the last. As Risha watched, he began to walk from aperture to aperture. The floor of the cell was worn in a dark ring along his path. At the far side of the room he paused to stare out, her eyes following his, so that she saw a courtyard and surrounding wall with a banner of black and gold hanging limp from the gate. Beyond the wall a steep-sided valley stretched to a distant ridge of blue-grey mountains.

He turned swiftly and they were face to face. His eyes, close to hers, were a bleak, cold grey, dark as Torfell stone.

Beyond Deeford the country became broken and rough, more like the Otharn foothills than the downlands that edged the plains. Farmsteads huddled in sheltered hollows, their roofs weighted against winter winds. Even the river seemed to draw in on itself, burrowing down into the rock where it flowed fast and deep, the road following the line of escarpments above.

‘How do they manage to get their boats back upstream?’ Risha asked, thinking of the busy wharves at the river’s mouth.

‘It’s mostly one-way traffic. The barges that come down are sold for scrap when they reach Caledon. I’ve never run the Dee, but they say the El is tame by comparison.’

They passed a tangle of trunks and branches that had become lodged, part-submerged, against the flow. ‘In the
winter there are flash floods,’ Nolan said. ‘The debris builds into a temporary dam, then when it breaks it releases a torrent that sweeps everything before it. They try to clear them sometimes, before the water backs up, but it’s a dangerous business. My mother had a brother who died that way.’

Though it was warm, Risha shivered. There was a dull hum of pain behind her eyes. ‘How far are we from Fratton?’

‘Two days. The trees ahead mark Fratton’s border with Caledon.’

She followed his pointing arm, to where a dark line of forest cloaked the distant hills, then turned her eyes north. ‘We’re not so far from Torfell.’

BOOK: Donnel's Promise
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