Missed Connections (74 page)

Kaeth squeezed his hand in alarm. "Why did you say that?"

"Trust me." Jerel lowered his voice and scowled. "There is something I did not tell you—or anyone—about the fire last night. I do not believe it began as an accident, any more than I believe those shelves fell on their own. I know every inch of this archive and have worked here for more hours than I can count. It is not possible for them to fall as they did without help."

His words sank into Kaeth and chilled his blood. The fact that he had begun to suspect as much himself lent credence to Jerel's theory.

"Then someone wishes us ill? But who?"

"Well, your prince comes to mind. He cannot be happy that you and I have found one another again."

"Indeed? I must tell you that I noticed a mysterious absence last night when we put out the fire—Merwyn, your trusted apprentice."

"Merwyn? 'Tis ludicrous! He is an amanuensis, not a killer, which cannot be said of your man Creegan, come to think of it."

"Despicable as he is, I think it unwise to limit our choices only to those most obvious suspects. Surely your studies in these very archives have taught you that making premature assumptions is also the fastest way to make mistakes!"

Jerel parted his lips in surprise, and seemed ready to continue the quarrel when another crash signaled that their rescuers were getting closer. "We had best leave this discussion for later," he whispered. "Play along as one knocked insensate, and we might provoke a reaction from the guilty party. Mayhap all those mummer shows you saw at Scurlock's castle will give your performance the edge."

In the end, it took several muscular students as well as a few of the more physically fit faculty members to move the shelves aside. What sounded like the clanking of armor suggested that a few of Demas's knights had joined the labor, as well. The aged wood groaned and cracked as they wrenched and lifted, their efforts punctuated with Jerel's occasional calls to be careful of his scattered scrolls.

The first face Kaeth saw through slitted eyes was Merwyn's, followed by none other than Creegan. When Merwyn pushed forward and saw Kaeth lying still in Jerel's arms, he blanched.

Elvar hurried over soon after. "What happened?" he demanded.

"A shelf struck him, your Highness," Jerel said in the most innocent of voices. "Knocked the sense directly from his head."

Kaeth felt Jerel squeeze his fingers in encouragement. He felt guilty for playing unconscious as the prince, clearly unnerved by his injured state, poked and prodded him with increasing desperation. Jerel stopped him by holding up a hand.

"We had best get him into bed, your highness. The healer can examine him. Hopefully a simple poultice to the forehead will do the trick."

"Let us hope his wound is no more serious than that," Elvar said. As he stood, he directed a look at Creegan that, had his eyes been daggers, would have killed him on the spot.

*~*~*

"I must be honest with you," Kaeth ventured from the bed, where he was stretched out as a patient, a poultice-dipped bandage around his head. "I do not care for this deception. We are unnecessarily worrying my father and yes, Prince Elvar too. I know you dislike him, but all the same we should treat him fairly, especially if he is innocent of wrongdoing."

Jerel paced the healing room deep in thought, stroking his chin and staring at the floor. "Better they should be worrying now than mourning your death, do you not agree? And I cannot fathom how you could entertain any illusion about Elvar's blamelessness. 'Tis obvious he wants me out of the way so he can have you for himself."

"And I have told you that Merwyn is every bit as viable a suspect. You will not see it because he is your apprentice. It is equally hard for me to believe ill of Elvar. He was my friend. Many times he intervened with King Scurlock on my behalf."

"And why would Merwyn try to destroy the archive? He has a scholar's love of the books here, just as I do."

"His love of books I do not doubt. However, he may well love something else to be found there and would prefer to have me out of the way."

"Nonsense! And the fire? That presented no threat to anyone except myself."

"Perhaps his idea was to comfort you afterward. He may even have planned to rescue you, but the others came too quickly."

"Well, I suppose your theory is possible," Jerel conceded with a grumble. "Nevertheless, I still find Elvar a more likely culprit. He may be your friend, but I assure you he has even less love for me than I do for him."

"This is why I took care never to mention or write your name while I was away." Kaeth sighed. "Had I written to you even once, you would have been in danger. I thought it best to leave you then, for your own protection. Yet now that I am back, things are no better." Frustrated, he covered his face in both hands.

Jerel joined him on the edge of the bed. He grasped Kaeth's hands and pulled them away from his face. He kissed Kaeth's forehead earnestly. "I understand now why you did what you did. However, you must never be afraid on my account. I am determined to live, whoever rises up against me. And I am determined to share that life with you. No one will stop us."

"Not even my father?"

"As far as your father goes, let us be grateful he went off to consult with the healer personally. That way neither of them will bother us for a while."

Keath watched the mischievous smile flicker over Jerel's lips and felt one flutter on his own. "When you state it in those terms, your plan seems better far more appealing."

Leaning in for a kiss, Jerel murmured his agreement. Then, just as quickly, he jumped back to his feet.

"Someone is on the way to visit you. You must become an invalid again, at least for a few moments, until we can determine who is really to blame for these attempts. Mind you, if Elvar exonerates himself, I will be present to hear that, too."

"Very well," Kaeth said miserably.

Jerel slipped behind the curtain that separated the back of the room, where the healer could rest or create potions as needed. He stuck his head out briefly.

"Remember, do not so much as flutter your eyes. Your visitors' tongues will move more freely if they think their words cannot be comprehended."

Kaeth nodded. He lay back and assumed an expression of complete insensibility just as Elvar and Creegan stormed into the sickroom.

"He looks much improved," Creegan said hopefully.

"You had better hope so!" Elvar sputtered. "The fact that he is injured at all must fall on your pathetic head, Creegan! A fine bodyguard you turned out to be!"

"I beg again that you forgive me, Highness. I had no idea my Lord Kaeth had entered the archive with… with the other fellow." He said it in a sneer in his voice, Kaeth noted, as though he couldn't bear to taste Jerel's name on his lips.

"Of course, it is not entirely your doing," Elvar conceded. "If the fire had done its rightful job earlier, neither of them would have been in the archive to begin with. Everyone might have been gathered for the miscreant's funeral instead. I could have watched over Kaeth myself there."

"Yes, Highness," Creegan agreed sheepishly.

"Perhaps there is something to this reliance on fate Kaeth rattles on about after all." Elvar bent and stroked Kaeth's hair back from his forehead. Kaeth had to force himself not to flinch.

"Yes, Highness."

"Soon you will be well again," Elvar promised in a whisper. "You will be as you were in every way… and then you will be mine."

After a few more minutes of Elvar fawning over him and Creegan hovering uncomfortably nearby, the two turned and left. Jerel returned as soon as their footsteps had retreated down the stone corridor outside.

"You were right!" Kaeth exclaimed, sitting up in a highly agitated state. "It was they who tried to kill us!"

"Not so quickly," Jerel cautioned. "His words were incriminating, I cannot deny, but they could be taken to hold more than one meaning. Nay, we must seek further evidence. I will go and do that now."

"We must tell someone what we have heard, though. My father, for instance. He may be more willing to interpret the words as we do."

Jerel shook his head. "He will say you were dreaming, or perhaps given to phantasms because of your ordeal. Pretend to sleep until I return."

"Be careful!" Kaeth urged. Pausing, Jerel bent and captured his lips in a crushing kiss that spoke of both today's passions and tomorrow's promises. He would have to be content with that for now, Kaeth realized. Best to move slowly and safely so that both of them survived into the future they hoped to share.

*~*~*

Loathe as he was to leave Kaeth behind, Jerel hurried back to the archives to see how the cleanup was faring. Merwyn was supervising the righting of some of the shelves and fussing over the scrolls and codices as volunteer students picked them up from the floor. Some were dented and bruised, Jerel saw, but fortunately very few of them seemed beyond hope of repair.

"What a loathsome mess!" Merwyn marveled as Jerel approached. He grabbed a few scrolls from a nearby student and shooed him away. "I can hardly believe I am not dreaming each time I look at the jumble."

"Indeed it is a most unfortunate incident—yet we shall restore it all." Jerel surveyed one of the shelves, still lying on its side atop another. "Tell me—have you come to any conclusion as to how these fell? Could a careless student have leaned on them and become fearful of admitting his mistake?"

"I confess it is a mystery," Merwyn said. "Merely leaning on a shelf would not cause it to fall. I have rested against them many a time myself, as have plenty of others, with no ill effects. More likely these were pushed over by someone possessing great strength."

"Aye." Jerel saw that it was true when he placed one hand on a shelf and tried to budge it. Merwyn could not have been the culprit for the simple reason that he was too slight of body. If he had not pushed the shelves, it seemed unlikely he had set the fire. Relief washed through him like a draught of cool summer ale. Not that he had taken Kaeth's accusation to heart, but he had far less difficulty imagining Creegan's bulky arms thrusting over heavy blocks of furniture.

"Once one fell, it took the others with it," Merwyn continued. He paused, searching Jerel's eyes. "I heard Master Kaeth was taken away to the sickroom. Will he be all right?"

"He will. 'Twas but a knock on the noggin, such as we have all suffered from time to time. Some bed rest and a few poultices and he should be back on his legs in a matter of days."

To Jerel's surprise, Merwyn reached out to press his hand. "I am glad, Master. Truly."

The look in his large, earnest eyes left no doubt in Jerel's mind that he understood everything. He saw no trace of the jealousy Kaeth had suggested. Instead, Jerel saw genuine happiness for what he and Kaeth had rediscovered together. Merwyn was far more perceptive than he had given him credit for all along. He had recognized in Jerel's heart what Jerel would have foolishly denied to his dying breath if not for the events of the past few days.

He gave Merwyn a smile of gratitude—the sort that did not need to be expressed in words. Then they went back to examining the destruction around them. He recalled Kaeth asking about Merwyn's whereabouts, and though he had uttered a facetious answer at the time, he wondered if the question might be worth revisiting.

"'Tis fortunate you were not injured as well," he said. "Where were you when the shelves collapsed?"

"I was in the storage room, sharpening a fresh quill." Merwyn pointed down the corridor, to the small chamber where they kept materials such as ink and extra parchment. On occasion, they retreated there for a brief repast of bread and ale so as not to stain the manuscripts.

"Did you see anyone leave the archive? Or approach?"

Merwyn considered. "I did see Prince Elvar in the hall a bit earlier. He said he had an audience with Master Kaeth and the ambassador and claimed to have taken a wrong turn. I directed him to the room where Ambassador Demas was breakfasting. He left some time before the crash happened, however."

Jerel raised a brow. "That is interesting. And Creegan was not with him?"

"No. I did not see him. I assumed the audience with Ambassador Demas would be private."

So that was it, Jerel thought, nodding. Elvar had not expected Kaeth to leave Demas and fetch Jerel personally. He was expecting Kaeth to remain with Demas until he showed up to address them both.

Meanwhile, he had left Creegan behind to carry out his bloodthirsty plans. No doubt it had been Creegan who had stolen into Jerel's room and set the fire as well—just as Elvar was beginning his seduction attempt on Kaeth.

"Merwyn, leave this disaster as it is. We will work on it later, together. For now I have a much more important task for you. Go and find Chancellor Berthog and have her bring Ambassador Demas and Prince Elvar to the healing room. It is urgent that I speak to all of them at once, and in his presence."

Though Merwyn was clearly intrigued, he knew it was not his place to inquire further. Instead, he hurried off to do Jerel's bidding.

*~*~*

Soon after the message had been delivered, those Jerel had summoned, along with Creegan, gathered at the door of the sick room. Kaeth continued with his charade of having lost his wits while Lodan the Healer kept a stern watch over him, but Jerel knew he would be hard-pressed to convince him to go on with it much longer. The hour had come to resolve the matter.

Elvar had worked himself into a fine temper before he had ever reached the healing room. He entered alongside Ambassador Demas, waving his hands in a dramatic fashion.

"Contracts and official scribes be cursed! I want an answer now, Ambassador! Surely you agree that I must take Kaeth away from this place. It is not safe for him. At any moment he may be set ablaze or knocked senseless by randomly collapsing furnishings. He will face no such dangers at my new northern castle."

"I believe the academy is safe enough for Kaeth as long as he does not spend much time near me," Jerel intruded on their conversation as he stepped forward and motioned them into the room.