Page 91 of Seducing the Sorcerer
“It’s the first big city on that coast north of the mountains. There’s a river. A wide one with lots of twists and turns. A big white building on the riverside. Lots of balconies. Flying the Lutian flag. That’s probably where they’ll take him.”
“They’ll be there now?”
“We think not yet.” She shook her head. “A boat was seen at Padalla Bay that evening. None of the locals knew it. Small, single cabin, an ordinary trawler, but—here’s the thing—the crystal was hidden in a housing. Who does that with a fishing vessel? So, we think it was to hide an expensive pink crystal. Anyway, a boat that size with a crystal that size—it’ll be fast, but not that fast. So I’ve sent ships out. Not just to the north but also south and west to the islands just in case. But we sent the fastest north. Who knows if they can catch up? But if you leave now—I don’t know how fast the horse can fly—but we’re already half-way there. If you go north-west from here you might catch them north of the Point of Jeramel, just south of Hardara.”
“A trawler. Housing over the crystal. That all you know?”
“Rusty metal housing. Grey hull. Blue cabin. White trim.”
It all sounded so flimsy. If he could find the right small boat along miles of coastline. If he could get there in time. If he could free Morgrim. And all this not knowing for sure that Morgrim was still alive.
But of course he was going.
He turned to Squab, but Aramella grabbed his arm.
“Fenn, if you can get to them before they get to Hardara—” She shook her head once. “Maybe they’ve passed no message. About Morgrim. They snatched him and ran. So— Gods, I hate to ask you this but I must, as Queen—if you think you can, it would be a good idea to...to keep them quiet.”
Fenn stared at her, uncomprehending. Then he twigged. The sick feeling was back. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I know you’re not a soldier. But you might have to kill them anyway. To get him back. They’re not going to give him to you. And if they think you’re going to rescue him they’ll kill him if they see you coming.” She was removing her belt, complete with pistols in holsters, ammunition, a knife and a small coil of rope. “Know how to handle a gun?”
Now she was taking one of the pistols out, demonstrating how to cock it, how to eject the cylinder to reload.
“The basics,” Fenn said. But pot-shots at rabbits and rock-hens seemed hardly to count just now. “Ain’t no shot.”
She put the gun back in the holster and he took the belt as if in a dream and buckled it around his waist. Could he kill a man? Even a man who’d kidnapped Morgrim?
“Aim for the torso,” Aramella was saying. “Don’t try anything clever.”
“Don’t know about this.” His voice shook.
“What they’ve done is an act of war.” Her voice was stern and full of certainty. “You understand? Whatever you might have to do: it’s not a crime.”
“Aye,” Fenn said miserably. Rescuing someone was one thing. Taking a man’s life was something else entirely. A realisation struck him, so awful he had to close his eyes against it for a moment before he could speak. “Jasper.”
“We don’t know for sure he’s with them. But if he is...” She looked him right in the eye. “Fenn. If my brother gets Morgrim, he’ll show him no mercy. They always loathed each other. Tullivo will be—” She let out a long breath “—he’ll be delighted to have Morgrim. To humble him, to hurt him. Try to think of that. And then do what you must.”
Fenn closed his eyes again and turned his face to the sky. He’d do anything to prevent harm to Morgrim. But all the same—
“Just don’t know if I could kill Jasper,” he said, his voice raw. “I know him. He’s a boy. Trying to protect his sister. Ain’t that I don’t see it might be necessary. But can’t promise, see?”
“Fenn.” She took his hands. “Do your best. This whole thing is a long shot. The country’s been hanging by a thread for the last two years anyway. We were bound to be found out sometime. But the man who took Morgrim—he is a soldier. A professional. He killed two men from his own regiment last night and he won’t hesitate to kill again. Understand?”
She gave his hands an extra squeeze and let go. “Anyway, I wouldn’t have come, but you know what Morgrim says about you? He thought...thinks...you’re a real hope for the country. And he’s awful at making friends and accepting help, but he likes you so much. I shouldn’t speak out of turn, but under the circumstances I think you should know: it’s more than liking. He has such respect for you. For your decency and kindness and your grit. He said he couldn’t believe we’d be so lucky; that such a good man had found such strong magic. So there is a chance, you see? Because they’re ruthless and power-hungry, but we have you and your worple horse.”
Fenn couldn’t bring himself to speak. Not only at hearing the things that Morgrim had told her about him, but because likely everything had changed. He ought to tell her everything: that Squab’s magic wasn’t his, or not his alone, that he and Morgrim had fought over it, that if Morgrim had his way, soon Fenn might have no magic at all. But it wanted an hour’s talk or none and there was no time. He glared at the ground and nodded.
“All right,” she said. “And Fenn? He told me once that magic has a way of finding a way. So have hope. And I’ll be waiting for you at the tower. With or without him. With the men who took him dead or alive. Understand? But promise me you’ll come back?”
“Do my best,” he muttered.
She embraced him, briefly, and he turned for his horse.
One of her soldiers had tacked Squab up—they must have brought tack from the capital. Another handed Fenn his leather jacket and helmet. Fenn put them on. He glanced across the yard to see the farmer and his family standing by their front door, watching in open-mouthed astonishment. He raised a hand in farewell.
And he was up and off, over the yard wall and up into a cloudless sky of glowing eggshell blue. Dawn was on the way. He stroked Squab’s coarse neck, put his heels to its sides and called aloud, a wordless encouraging shout. And they were streaking through the sky like a shooting star, north-west, towards the sea, towards the man who might save the country from war and break Fenn’s heart at the same time.
Chapter 19
