“Feeling any better?”
“Damin?”
Rorin blinked a few times, and looked around the room blankly. He was back in his own room in Cabradell Palace, daylight streaming through the windows. At first glance, the bedroom seemed to be full of people, although when he managed to focus his eyes a little better he realised it was just the prince and Lady Lionsclaw standing on either side of the bed. His agonizing encounter with a Karien priest seemed like a distant memory, something out of a nightmare he couldn’t quite recall. He struggled to sit up, collapsing with a yelp of pain as soon as he tried to put any pressure on his left shoulder.
Damin winced sympathetically. “You might want to wait a bit before you try that again, Rory. That’s a pretty nasty burn you’ve got there.”
Rorin frowned, wondering how he’d gotten burned, and then he realised the whole sorry business with Kraig and Renulus and that damned Staff of Xaphista hadn’t been a dream, after all.
“What happened?”
“You passed out.”
“That much I get. What happened to Renulus? Did Kraig kill him?”
Damin smiled. “I gather he was sorely tempted, but he managed to contain himself.”
“He’s a Karien priest, Damin.”
“No, actually he’s a Denikan prince.”
“I meant Renulus.”
Damin smiled. “I know. And I believe you. I saw the staff. And what it did to your shoulder. How come it didn’t harm Kraig?”
“It only works on those who can channel Harshini magic.” Rorin turned his head and looked up at Lady Lionsclaw, who was standing on the other side of the bed looking down on him with concern. “And he hit me with it when I was channelling, which would have amplified the effect a thousandfold. Did you have any idea what Renulus was, my lady?”
“He’d have been dead long ago, if I had,” Tejay assured them. “I’m fairly certain Terin had no idea he was a priest of Xaphista, either. My late husband was many things I didn’t admire, but a follower of the Overlord wasn’t one of them.”
“What do you suppose he’s doing here?” Damin asked.
Lady Lionsclaw shrugged. “I have no idea. And no idea if I should be worried about it, either.”
He tried to smile reassuringly. “Maybe there’s nothing to be concerned about. His presence in Cabradell could be as innocuous as one curious Karien wanting to see how the other half lived.”
“Or as sinister as a spy sent here by the Church of Xaphista the Overlord for some nefarious reason we know nothing of,” Damin suggested. “I suppose we’ll find out when we question him.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Rorin warned. “If he’s a Karien priest then he’s a fanatic and fanatics tend to enjoy suffering. It makes them think they’re earning a place at the Overlord’s table in the afterlife.” He yawned and shifted on the bed a little, grimacing with pain. “I’m sorry, Damin,” he added, feeling guilty that he’d brought down even more trouble on his friends at a time when they could least afford it. “I was just trying to help.”
“You’ve nothing to apologise for,” Damin assured him. “You exposed a spy in our midst and if nothing else, gave me a perfectly good excuse to keep him locked up for the duration of the campaign, which means we’ve got a much better chance of convincing everyone Terin is still alive. Which brings me to my next problem.” He glanced across at Tejay. “It seems the Lionsclaw family has a vacancy for a seneschal, and I’ve volunteered you to fill it.”
“Kalan ordered me to stay by your side.”
“Do you always do what Kalan wants?”
“Hardly ever, now you come to mention it.”
“Then consider yourself the new seneschal to the Warlord of Sunrise Province, Rorin Mariner.” Damin glanced over the bed at Tejay. “Or Warlady, as the case may be.”
“I don’t think there’s such a word, Damin,” Tejay said.
“There will be if word gets out about what we’re up to here. Are you sure you’ll be all right, Rorin?”
“I’ll be fine. Truly.”
“Can you heal yourself?” Tejay asked.
“Not as well as I can heal others, but even a little bit of Harshini blood means I’ll heal faster than most.”
“Well, do what you can to get well,” she ordered. “Because as soon as you’re up to it, we have another patient who needs your attention.”
“Another patient? Who?”
“Adham,” Damin told him, his good humour fading a little. “He took a knife in the belly a few weeks ago in a brawl over my honour. It’s not getting any better.”
Rorin frowned. “I’ll do what I can, Damin … but it might be a day or so … that damned staff … it’s like it sucked the life out of me.”
“I had my physician, Caranth Roe, administer a draught to ease your pain,” Lady Lionsclaw informed him. “Some of your fatigue may be the effects of the drug, rather than the residual effects of the staff.”
“I hope so, my lady,” Rorin agreed.
“I thought it was just legend, all that stuff Wrayan told us about Karien priests and the Staff of Xaphista when we were boys,” Damin said. “Guess that was another one of his tall tales that turned out to be true, eh?”
“Most assuredly,” Rorin replied, his shoulder throbbing in time with his pulse. Whatever Caranth Roe had given him, other than making him drowsy, it didn’t seem to be having much of an effect on the pain. “Orleon would be most put out to learn of it. What are you going to do with Renulus?”
Damin sat down on the bed, his expression grim. “I’d really,
really like to kill him, but with every damned Warlord in Hythria converging on this place, I don’t want it getting back to anybody in the war camp that we might have uncovered a Karien spy in our midst. That’s just giving Cyrus Eaglespike way too much rope to hang us with.”
“Will he care?” Rorin asked. “We’re at war with Fardohnya, not Karien.”
“You know Alija better even than I do,” Damin reminded him. “She’d find a way to turn it against us. Or against the Lionsclaw family because they’ve always been Wolfblade allies. I’d rather not give Cyrus, or his mother, the opportunity, if I can avoid it.”
“He’s going to be suspicious when I suddenly start acting as Terin’s seneschal, isn’t he?”
“I doubt it,” Tejay assured him. “For one thing, it’s not uncommon for members of the Sorcerers’ Collective to act as stewards and seneschals for highborn Houses. It happens quite frequently. For another, Cyrus never met Renulus and because Terin was convinced the entire Eaglespike family looked down on him more than most, their dealings with his family were pretty much confined to the Convocation.”
“And there hasn’t been a Convocation since Cyrus inherited his father’s province,” Damin reminded him.
Rorin felt a little better for hearing that. “Poor Terin. Knowing what an arrogant ass Cyrus Eaglespike can be, for once, he may have been right about the highborn looking down on him.” He turned to look at Tejay, wondering how she was dealing with the notion that her husband was probably dead. She didn’t seem to be debilitated by her grief. In fact, she hardly seemed to be grieving at all. “I can’t apologise enough for not being able to save your husband, my lady.”
Tejay patted his hand with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, Rorin. I’m sure I’ll manage to get by.”
“You don’t seem very upset.”
“Which is a damned good thing, don’t you think? We’d never be able to pull off this dangerous little escapade if I
was moping about the palace, weeping and wailing for my long-lost husband like a silly girl.”
“I guess not.”
“You go back to sleep, Rorin,” she advised. “Concentrate on getting better and regaining your strength so you can help Adham. Let me and Damin worry about the rest of it, all right?”
He nodded, thinking more sleep would be nice. The draught was making him lethargic and at the very least, solitude would help. He couldn’t concentrate on easing the pain or doing anything to magically speed up the healing process with an anxious audience looking on.
“I’ll be up and about soon, my lady. I promise.”
“I know you will,” she agreed. Then she turned to Damin and pointed to the door. “You. Out.”
“I was just …”
“Let the man rest, Damin.”
“Call if you need anything,” Damin said, rising to his feet.
“I will.”
“And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For being there when we needed you.”
“It was nothing.” Rorin shrugged, wincing with pain at such a foolish impulse. “I face down evil, staff-wielding Karien priests all the time.”
“Of course you do,” Damin agreed. “You’re a real hero, Rory. I’m sure Kalan will be very impressed.”
The comment left him a little confused. “Huh? … Oh, I see … Well, despite what you think, your highness, I’m not in the least bit interested in impressing your sister.”
“Good,” Damin said. “Because you know I’d have to kill you if you ever laid a hand on her.”
“You don’t scare me, Damin Wolfblade,” he replied with a hazy smile, as the draught pulled him down towards sleep. “I survived the Staff of Xaphista.”
Rorin heard Damin laugh softly, heard Tejay urging him to let the patient sleep, their retreating footsteps and then
faintly registered the door opening and closing as the effects of Canath Roe’s drug overtook him. He drifted off to sleep, the pain in his shoulder fading to a dull ache in the distance, his dreams filled with visions of heroic sorcerers, evil, staff-wielding Karien priests, large, intimidating Denikan princes, and being comforted in the unlikely arms of Lady Kalan Hawksword.