It wasn’t a sound that woke Louve from his sleep, it was a presence that skittered across his skin. Even that shouldn’t have woken him since for years he’d slept in rooms filled with other mercenaries. He was used to other men’s snores, the rustle of clothing and the minute movements of restless men.
So it was the sinister feel of the presence that alerted him to the danger. Of course, if the person standing in his room wanted him dead, he’d already be dead, so he didn’t open his eyes or move when he said, ‘Did it have to be this late?’
‘I couldn’t fit it into the day that we had,’ Ian said.
Shoving the quilt down with his feet, Louve sat, and ran his hands through his hair. He’d hardly slept the night before and the night before that, and the night... When was the last time he’d slept?
‘Why is it your entire household abhors my getting any rest?’ he said.
Ian chuckled. ‘Maybe we are afraid if you did, you’d think more clearly and leave while you can.’
Eyeing the Warstone who was barely perceivable in the dark, Louve stood and stretched.
‘You sleep without any clothing?’
‘Don’t you?’ Louve said.
‘Seems like a luxury to me. When you have to escape with your life, having a tunic is useful.’
‘Maybe if I had one as fine as yours, but I’m afraid I spend my coin on other matters, like the weaponry that is more functional when a life is at stake.’
‘Those are the financial choices a mercenary has to make?’
Those were ones he made. Louve swept up his tunic and slid it on. ‘Won’t you tell me why you’re here?’
‘It’s too dark in here for this,’ Ian said.
‘It’s perfect for sleep.’ Louve secured his braies and grabbed his breeches.
‘But we need to talk.’ Ian opened the door and returned with a torch to light the two in the room.
Maybe it was the lateness of the night, or the flickering torch, but Louve was again reminded that this enemy was also the brother to Reynold, his friend. They looked and talked so similarly—what went on in their heads, though, could be different. Louve needed to determine if Ian’s flashes were madness or warnings.
Nothing about Ian’s mannerisms now seemed tensed for attack and, in that brief moment that the door opened, Louve saw no one in the hall. Perhaps Ian truly was that secure in his skills, or this was another friendly, but odd visit.
‘How was the conversation with my brother in the garden?’ Ian said.
Louve wasn’t surprised Ian knew, he was only surprised he’d been allowed any access to Balthus.
‘He doesn’t trust you and neither do I.’ Louve adjusted his breeches.
‘That’ll take time, no?’ Ian said.
Time wouldn’t be enough. ‘I have some wine here if you’d like.’
Ian moved farther into the room. ‘I didn’t think I allowed such luxury for my servants.’
‘You don’t.’ But the ale was poisoned and it was safer to ensure he had his own wine in case someone had tampered with those casks.
Ian accepted the cup from him and drank, his eyes keeping with Louve’s. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s unnatural to have you here,’ Louve said.
‘What could be unnatural about conversing and sharing wine?’ Ian lifted his cup.
It was unnatural because Ian kept seeking out his company. With Balthus and Reynold he’d been the one to pursue any relationship. It’d been the same way with Nicholas when he’d returned.
Louve rolled the wine in his cup. Too much of his life had been dictated by others. He longed for the time when it could be his own. He longed for the time when he could sleep through the night again.
‘Surely you must have shared such time with my brothers,’ Ian continued.
‘A time or two.’ Louve took a sip.
‘I’m surprised either of them allowed you to approach my fortress.’
‘Are you?’ Louve said, indicating the chair behind Ian for him to sit, while he sat in the other.
‘I’d think they’d be more protective of someone who decides to be a friend. I know I would.’
Had he chosen any of this madness? ‘I think I’ll decline your protection since it entails attempted murder.’
Ian settled back in his chair. ‘Would you believe me if I told you I’m glad Balthus escaped?’
‘You know the answer to that.’
Ian shook his head. ‘True, it is right not to believe me since his death suits my needs. My parents’ as well. Balthus and Reynold only divide our power and wealth.’
‘You say this at the same time you talk of friendship and wanting your brothers back.’
‘We might have no choice, though,’ Ian said. ‘Only one of us can survive.’
Louve slid him a glance and something flitted across Ian’s face.
‘I said that aloud, didn’t I?’ Ian said.
Warnings or madness? Louve observed the lack of confident smugness and notes of vulnerability in Ian’s voice.
‘I didn’t mean to say that,’ Ian repeated.
The Warstone appeared frightened. Louve knew he himself was terrified. ‘You have no reason.’
‘I do...right this precise moment. But as a precaution, where’s your weapon?’
‘It’s near.’ Louve didn’t glance to his chair arm where he had strapped a dagger.
‘I don’t need to ask if you know how to defeat me. I know you can. First Nicholas, then Reynold trained with you. You’ve had practice.’
At the mention of Nicholas, Louve stilled.
Ian gave a scoffing sound. ‘Don’t be surprised by what I know about you, or who assisted in Guy’s death. Although I was always surprised that a man as large as Nicholas of Mei Solis could move as swiftly as he could. Do you have his speed?’
‘You woke me up in the middle of the night to talk of my fighting skills? I’m more likely to use them on you as a demonstration. Do you intend to do this hunt tomorrow?’
Ian stood suddenly. ‘If my brother, Balthus, asked me to a hunt, why would I not go?’
‘Because there will be consequences if he doesn’t return.’
Louve braced for an attack, but Warstone only walked to the table and poured wine into his cup. So Louve raised his cup as offering to see what the eldest son would do.
Brows raised, Ian eyed Louve and with much flourish tipped the flagon until the remainder of wine filled Louve’s cup.
‘There are consequences to any death, but especially in one so dear. Balthus is dear to my mother.’ Ian set the flagon on the table, but did not return to his chair. ‘I am, as you said, losing my understanding. It’s been occurring...for some time. I thought I had hidden it from my parents. They are not pleased by my mistakes, Balthus dodging an errant arrow being one. They’ve tried to kill me, you know.’
‘As part of your childhood training,’ Louve said for clarification. It wasn’t possible that the Warstones recently attempted to murder their eldest.
Both hands cradling the crude cup, Ian strode to stand behind his chair. ‘I have theories, but I’d like to hear why Reynold ordered you here and why you allowed Balthus to be within my reach?’
‘Ordered. Allowed.’ Never taking his eyes off Ian, Louve kept his right hand near the dagger. ‘There are only moves on the board, Warstone—do you think any of us players can truly be influenced by another player?’
At Ian’s unexpected silence, Louve considered his night companion. Ian’s slips from one topic point to another weren’t alarming, but ignoring a question and not making a reply was.
Louve didn’t dare move, not when Ian suddenly sat in his chair and seemingly forgot Louve was sitting in the room with him. Not while he watched minute changes begin as Ian’s open expression closed before pale eyes rose once again.
‘It’s not here.’
‘What’s not here?’ Louve said as evenly as possible. Ian’s voice was now cultured, controlled, and a sly cunning etched his features. It was subtle, but even the way he sat in the chair was different. The moment they had, the right now that Ian said he had, was gone. Lord Warstone had returned.
Adjusting himself in his seat, Louve prepared for whatever fight would come. ‘What isn’t here?’
The second brother, Guy, was reported to be a brutal killer with no remorse. It was apparent Ian suffered from his own demons all while he was aware of them. Was this the fate that awaited Reynold and Balthus? And what did that say about his own destiny?
‘The parchment my brother seeks,’ Ian said. ‘Do you think I’d have it in my possession at the same residence I invite my parents to?’
This was the Ian who could strike at any time, the one who played games. The one who liked to reveal truths and then hide them again. Warstone had already hinted that he knew the reason Louve was here and that was to obtain that parchment leading to the treasure from the Jewell of Kings. There was no point to deny it.
‘Why wouldn’t you have the parchment in the same residence as your parents?’ Louve said. ‘They adore you. What parent wouldn’t admire their firstborn who owns it while the other brothers covet it?’
Ian sneered, ‘It’s so they keep me alive.’
‘It’s merely one among your other notable attributes to keep you alive,’ Louve said.
‘Those are many.’ Ian chuckled. ‘Oh, but as long as my brothers live, my family could change their minds. It would be amusing if they, for example, try to kill me instead of them.’
Twice. That was twice that Ian alluded to his parents trying to kill him. Could it be true?
Ian waved his cup around. ‘Hence why the parchment is far away. Don’t think my dear mother and father wouldn’t change on any of us if they gained the parchment regarding the Jewell of Kings. It’s beautiful, you know. Not those torn slips of paper that Reynold has in his possession, but one complete page. Of course, absolutely useless unless one is also in possession of the Jewell and the dagger, but beautiful none the less.’
The crackling of the flames in the torches was the only other sound besides this eerie conversation, but Louve strained his ears to hear if anyone was outside the closed door, listening to this conversation.
Ian was a Warstone, and this information would come at a price, but he’d take it while he could. ‘What do you mean useless?’
‘I believe it explains the treasure.’ Ian smirked. ‘Ah, yes, I know of the treasure. My parents believe, and perhaps Reynold knows, that what I possess is a code which must be deciphered.
‘Of course, my parents can never possess it—I’ll keep it until I’m dead. Or they are dead. Or if everyone dies, I’ll gather all the words, find all the meanings and have the power and treasure to myself.’
And thus power begets power and madness. A place where Louve could find peace seemed further away than the parchment. ‘I would not wish for your childhood.’
‘If we could change, I wouldn’t wish for yours.’ Ian arched one brow. ‘Surprised? See it from my point of view—how dull yours has been. Secure in a home and estate where you’re respected and cared for. Happy, but not interesting. Worse, it appears Reynold is building such an existence for his own children! How far he’s fallen.’
Louve was tired of defending his childhood. It was happy, but that didn’t mean it fit. Only one of the reasons he’d left it behind...and was now sitting next to a murderer, wishing he could have at least one restful night. The irony was not lost on him.
‘So here I am and the parchment isn’t,’ Louve said.
‘You believe me so easily?’
‘It’s not as if I have permission to inspect your rooms. What is the alternative?’
Ian stared at Louve for more than a few heartbeats, more than a few breaths. He felt the flickering torches tap out the time as Ian thought out the ramifications to Louve’s impulsive request.
The easy answer should have been a refusal. That’s what he believed Ian would say. Instead, he said, ‘Do you think a sister’s love is stronger than a brother’s?’
Louve’s heart stopped. ‘I haven’t any siblings, so I couldn’t compare.’
‘Ah, perhaps that is why you form such loyal friendships.’ Ian shifted. ‘Tomorrow I am gone. It is as simple as that. So I’ll let my guards know you have my permission to enter my quarters. I’ll even let you take anything from there.’
‘Anything?’
‘If it wants to go, yes,’ Ian said.
‘Parchments rarely speak about desires,’ Louve said carefully.
Ian gave a low chuckle. ‘But women rarely speak of anything else. Mine talks when I watch her. The...entertainment is almost enough for me to forget.’
More than once, Ian had mentioned watching his mistress. Now...only now, Louve understood why Ian kept her. Not because he feared he’d spoken in his sleep as Balthus surmised, but because Ian didn’t lie with Margery, someone else did. For Bied’s sake, for her sister’s, he needed to feign more interest in the parchment.
‘It doesn’t sound as though you need anything from your room, but one travels easier than another, and that one I find more enticing. I accept that proposal.’
Ian flashed a smile that did not reach his pale eyes. ‘There will be consequences.’
Louve knew there would be. Ian might be going on a hunt, but not all of his guards would be gone. Everyone he cared for was at risk. All he wanted to do was rescue Bied and Margery and be done with it all.
But he wasn’t here for them. He was here because he gave his oath to his friends and, while Ian sat before him, while it was still the dead of night and there were no interruptions, the game had to continue.
‘Room or no room, permission or not, since you report the parchment is elsewhere,’ Louve said, ‘will you, to keep my dull life interesting, fill my mind with useless information and reveal where it is?’
Ian pointed at Louve with the hand holding the wine cup. ‘Safe with my wife and children whom I haven’t seen for years.’
Louve felt his world spin and, despite wishing otherwise, he believed the eldest brother. The parchment wasn’t here and everything they’d done for the last few weeks was for naught.
All that could be obtained was more information if Ian was in a divulging mood.
‘With your wife? What is to stop me from—’
‘You won’t find them,’ Ian said. ‘I secured them in a home and they aren’t there any longer. I did well marrying that woman. She’s good, you know. Innocent. I thought her biddable and for a time she was. Then she learnt and learnt too well.
‘When I knew my mind was malleable, I tucked her away far in the north. Not so far that I couldn’t kill her and the children in the middle of the night, but it would take some time. I’d have to think of it and all the while it would be inconvenient.’
There was only one way Ian knew she wasn’t in the home any more. ‘You decided to do it, though.’
‘Oh, yes. Not so long in the recent past. I was quite perturbed that they weren’t there, came home and immediately tried to kill Balthus. Merely to...move matters along a bit. But even that was ruined. Mistakes!’
‘What happened when you went up there?’
‘Cobwebs, dust, spiders, creatures living in every corner. I left her there and I don’t think she unpacked because it was empty. Probably left the day after I did. Which meant years have passed. Even if I could find her now...no. My time is over. They have the parchment, but nothing else.’
Ian leaned his head back; his expression was well worn. ‘You are a good friend to the Warstones.’
‘I am not your friend.’
‘You warn me away, like someone who still has his soul intact, though it’s clear you like the games. Still, I’ve enjoyed this conversation. Did I give you what you wanted?’
‘You came to my room. Did you get yours?’
‘The wine is decent,’ Ian said. ‘I can enjoy it though I am but a reed to a disloyal breeze. I like that I could talk to you in all my many forms. I liked that you played along.’
‘What is it you want, Ian? I think we’re both tired and need to rest.’ Whatever this was, the game would continue, but the night would end. He didn’t have enough wine to prolong this amicably and he never wanted to reach for the dagger. It would be preferable if they both lived one more day.
‘I cannot face my wife or children and apologise to them. They’re...good, other than the Warstone blood, they’re good. My wife thinks I’m good...or she did once a long time ago.’ Ian sighed. ‘I’d like to face my brother and apologise for what I did, too.’
‘He is here, as are you, you don’t need my help to tell him of your remorse.’
‘With my parents here and my Steward gone, it will be up to me, won’t it? That will prove to be enlightening, tomorrow.’ Ian closed his eyes, his expression dark and yet untroubled. ‘How is your sword arm?’
Louve was fast losing the threads of this conversation. ‘Do you wish to train together tomorrow in the lists?’
Ian blinked and his pale eyes sought out Louve again. ‘You’re my friend, aren’t you? I’ve never had one before and you’ve been one to so many. You’re good at being a friend to a Warstone. Do you know how rare that is?’
‘Friendship requires trust and trust takes years to earn.’
‘Years might not be a possibility. I don’t want to throw daggers any more, but I can’t keep up with my actions any more. And even if I stay my hand, it doesn’t mean others won’t throw theirs.’ Ian stood and set his cup on the table. ‘Make me a promise.’
‘No.’
Ian laughed, but it sounded weary. ‘Don’t you want to hear it first?’
‘No.’
‘You would make a good Warstone,’ Ian said. ‘I’ll tell you anyway. When it comes to the end of me, because it’s soon, take care of my wife and sons.’
If his wife and sons were in hiding, then they were already safe. ‘You don’t intend to kill me?’ Louve asked.
‘In the whole world, you are as inconsequential as your happy childhood home. For me, I am extremely tired. So incredibly...’ Ian opened and closed the door as quietly as he came in.
Louve wasn’t certain he had the strength to rise and return to his bed. There would only be a few more hours before the dawn. Before a hunt occurred where ‘years might not be a possibility.’
For whom? Balthus? Ian? The Warstones? Any number of the servants? Himself?
Bied.
Louve had a thousand words he wanted to say to her, but there was too much and not enough time. If they got through this, he vowed that whatever trust she’d lost, he would earn it. That one shared moment on a kitchen floor wouldn’t be all they had together. They’d talk, he’d compromise, anything, until only the Warstone intrigues separated them, and when the game was done, that would be gone as well.
In the meantime, the Warstones were on the hunt and for more than just deer. No parchment; Balthus at risk. If Ian didn’t order the guards to slaughter him, there was nothing stopping his parents from ordering their guards to do so.
On the hunt, would they even bother to make it look like an accident? No. Reynold would know the truth and come for his brother and forfeit his own life.
At least Bied would have her sister and they could escape before the day played out. He wondered, if he told her everything, if she’d give him a chance? Or would he yet again not be accepted and left to fate?