Rising Fire (14 page)

When she glanced up at him, he felt a flicker of recognition in the way her brow lifted and in the nervous smile on her lips. A wave of acid rolled in his gut then, and Hugh feared he knew the truth of her origins.

“Have I displeased you, my lord?” she asked softly as they walked to the other end of the smaller keep and then up the stairs. He shook his head.

“How many years have you, girl?” She must be younger than Adelaide, and if she was, then it was not possible. It could not be possible.

“I will be eight and ten when I mark the anniversary of my birth in the summer. At least that is what my parents—what Gavin and Fia—told me.”

She'd been born on the summer solstice eighteen years ago.

A year before Adelaide. Before his marriage to Margaret, which had seemed so promising to his father. She'd been born to—

He forced himself to stop remembering the rest of it. Controlling himself was an action he'd perfected, and
he enforced it now, pushing away any memories that would interfere with a millennia of plans. They'd reached the corridor that led to his chambers.

“No one comes down this hallway without my permission, Brienne. Do you understand?” At her nod, he guided her down the darkened corridor, causing the torches to burn brighter to light their path. There was the slightest hesitation in her step, but she continued at his side.

Promising.

As he lifted the latch on his door, he heard the slight intake of breath as she prepared herself for what would come. He smiled then. The wench had no idea what she would face.

Once inside, he closed the door and they stood in complete darkness. When one controlled fire, one did not need to leave candles burning, he thought. Now her fear began to overwhelm her curiosity, and he felt her begin to tremble.

“Go ahead, Brienne. Show me.”

He liked this one, for she did not pretend to misunderstand him or his order. She took in a long, deep breath, and as she released it, Hugh found he was holding his.

If she was his daughter, if she inherited his power over fire, if he could bring her into his plans, their power would be infinite. So much depended on this unexpected turn of events, not the least of which was his own life. A sacrifice from the fireblood line would ensure Chaela's success and his survival. And he intended to survive.

The room filled with light and heat as she created fire in her outthrust hand. The flames burst forth and
burned brightly between them. He smiled. A good sign. She was untrained but carried the power of his bloodline.

“Must you hold out your hand to begin it?” he asked, watching the intense concentration on her face. “Just bring it forth,” he urged.

The room plunged into darkness for a few seconds as she dropped her hand and let it extinguish. Then once more Brienne made the fire burn between them. Hugh nodded and walked behind her.

“Larger,” he ordered. She made it larger.

“Brighter.” A human would have had to shield his eyes at the intensity of the light she brought forth. But he looked on it and into it, assessing the power she had, and smiled again.

She calmed then. He felt the tension leave her, and the fire became more intense and more focused. Walking to the other side of the room, at the edges of what she'd created, he took the next step.

“Aim it at me.”

Darkness was her answer.

“I told you to aim your fire at me, Brienne. Do not disobey me now.” He took a step closer.

“I cannot, my lord,” she said in a whisper.

She thought he would be harmed! He laughed at that. But if she would not follow his commands and use the fire as he wanted it to be used—as a weapon that swords and daggers could not stop—then she was of no use to him. And he would not waste his time training her. Better to end it now before she gained more power and did not know how to use it.

“I find myself unusually disappointed, girl. I had such hopes for you.”

Without any further warning, he unleashed his fire on her. She threw her hands up before her face to protect herself, as many had before her—but this time he found himself unable to prolong the torment he usually so enjoyed. He sent another terrible burst of fire at her to end it.

*   *   *

Danger!

William jumped from the bed and looked around the chamber.

Nothing. He was alone. The keep lay in heavy silence, and no sounds of alarm or attack could be heard. And yet . . .

His body began to shake and tremble and sweat.

His muscles tightened and grew, his head high above the floor. A bluish glow filled the chamber as his flesh changed and his vision filled with red.

His control was slipping away, and he was losing himself.

Brienne!

Then it was gone. The pull to that other being cut like a thread and he changed back to himself. He panted as the sweat poured from him and tried to gain some sense of what had happened.

She had been in danger; he knew it to the marrow of his bones. Just as she'd been before. But now he could feel nothing of her.

No fear. No sense of danger. Nothing.

Knowing they would not open the gates until the morning, he could not leave to seek her out. He lay back on the bed, still shaking from the changes in his body. Had he only thought his body altered? He'd been asleep and so possibly it had been a nightmare?

William listened to the unnatural silence around him. No nightjars chirping their songs. No sounds in this night at all, as though a heavy blanket had been tossed over Yester Castle, muffling any noises.

He waited for some sign of distress from Brienne, but all sense of her had been snuffed out like a candle.

I
t burned!

Not like her fire.

This fire burned her skin and clothes and sent heated waves of air into her lungs.

The pain!

Her hands took most of it, flung up before her as though they could stop his fire from burning her. Then the power within her came alive and pushed forth, protecting her from the assault.

She hid within her flames so his fire could not harm her. Never had she wanted to send her fire at someone or even thought it a possibility, but he wanted her to. She could hear him urging her—daring her—to do it even now from inside the flames.

With little effort, she aimed at the shape of his body outside the flames and directed her power at him. He laughed as it struck him. Suddenly, she was no longer harmed or even slowed down by his assault. She thrust more and more at him until he was gone.

“Excellent, daughter of my blood!”

The words came from within the fire she'd created
around her, for he was there now with her. At first she thought Hugh had spoken, but the voice was a mixture of male and female or . . . something else.

“She has the power,” the female said.

“She is ours,” the male said.

“Ready her for us,” the blended voice said.

“Stop!” Lord Hugh commanded.

Within a moment, all fire stopped, and she walked from among the flames. The lovely robe had burned to scraps in the first moments of his fiery onslaught. He reached for something on the chair in the corner of the chamber and tossed it at her.

Shaking from the physical cost of bringing forth such power, she collapsed as her legs gave out. Her father carried her to a chair and reached for a bottle of golden liquid, pulling the stopper from it before handing it to her. When she did nothing, for her body would not obey her now, he wrapped her hand around it and guided it to her mouth.

“Drink. Now,” he ordered, as he pushed the bottle against her mouth until she leaned her head back and took some. The liquid slid down, coursing a molten path down her throat and into her stomach. “It is whisky.” She tried to lift the bottle from her mouth, but he held it fast.

“Again,” he ordered, tipping the bottle more and forcing her to swallow it. She tried again to draw back, but he shook his head.

“More,” he demanded. Another and another mouthful until her stomach eased and the heat of the whisky spread through her. Brienne lost the will to fight him. “Good,” he whispered as she drank once more from the bottle.

Dizzy now from the exhaustion and from the whisky, for she'd never had such a potent drink before, she fell back against the chair and felt her eyes closing. A moment or a minute later—she could not tell—the soft touch of a man's hand on her cheek woke her, and she forced her eyes to open.

“The goddess is pleased with you, Brienne,” he whispered from in front of her. Crouched down so that their faces were level, he nodded and smiled. “Very pleased, as am I.”

Then he wrapped the cloth around her and scooped her into his arms. Soon they were moving through the hall and down the steps. He carried her in silence. Too dizzy to keep watching, too sleepy to think on much at all, Brienne could feel them making their way in the chilled air of the corridors. One glance into his face and she closed her eyes and let it all fade away as he spoke once more.

“The goddess is very pleased.”

*   *   *

She stumbled through the darkness, seeking a way home and finding endless black. Falling and falling and falling. Brienne called out for help, for Gavin and Fia. She could end this. She could end the darkness. She had the power. All she had to do was to make—

Nay! 'Twas forbidden. 'Twas secret. No one must know.

Dragged back into the nightmare, she fought it, fought its control and the terror. Lord Hugh stood before her then, throwing his fire at her, burning her and burning her until she . . .

She woke up trying to scream. Clutching her
burning throat, she looked around and found herself in the middle of her bed in her chambers.

In Yester Castle.

“Here now, Brienne,” said a soft voice. “You have been dreaming.”

Emilie. A cousin. Her companion and maid.

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

“All through the night, I suppose,” she said with a soft laugh. “Unless you went off cavorting after I put you to bed last night?” Brienne accepted the cup of cool water and sipped it as she watched the girl tug the bedcovers and smooth them around her.

No matter that she was considered family, she had no doubt that Lord Hugh wanted to keep her fire powers a secret, so she said nothing. Part of her thought she'd dreamed it, for there was no sign that she'd left her bed since she'd climbed in after her bath. Then she noticed Emilie searching for something.

“I cannot find the robe I left here on the bed last evening.” Emilie knelt down and looked beneath the bed now. “Did you . . . put it away? Or pull it under the bedcovers with you?”

The memory of the robe burning off of her flooded her mind, along with the pain and fear. She shivered against it. Had it been real? She looked at her hands, the ones that had taken the full force of the fire, and saw no evidence of injury.

“No matter,” Emilie said, going over to the trunk that held her new garments. “Here is another, though not as heavy as the other.”

The girl held out the robe and waited for her to get out of the bed. Unaccustomed as Brienne was to
dressing or undressing or bathing in front of another, she found it difficult to do without hesitation. So, she slid out of the covers, keeping most of her body beneath them until the last moment. Or she would have if Emilie had not pulled the covers off her.

“What? How?” she asked, tugging Brienne aside to look at the sheets. Black streaks marked what had been pristine linens. “This,” Emilie said, rubbing a finger along one of the marks and smelling it, “smells like ashes. What did you do?”

Brienne knew that the ash was from last night, but how could she explain that? Searching for the right words, she was about to try to explain—something—when the door to the chamber opened and Lord Hugh walked in.

“Emilie,” Lord Hugh said without even glancing over at her.

“My lord?”

“Do not ever think to question my daughter. About anything. Do you understand?” he asked. The way he stood with his arms folded across his chest and a very serious expression on his face made Brienne glad that she was not the one to whom he spoke.

“Aye, my lord,” Emilie whispered, bowing to him. “Never.” Now when the girl looked at her, her eyes filled with terror.

“You may leave us now.”

All it took was that and she fled without looking back. Lord Hugh closed the door and faced her.

“I beg your pardon if I was expected somewhere, my lord,” she offered.

“How do you fare, Brienne?” He walked closer and examined her closely. “Is your strength returned?”

“I am well,” she said. Though she'd awakened badly,
now that the stupor of sleep had passed, she felt much better.

“I find that it invigorates me,” he said, not taking his gaze from hers. All pretense was gone between them; she understood that now.

She shrugged. “I have never done that before. Never tried.”

“And always hidden it away? From Gavin and Fia?” He sighed. “I did not know you had inherited the power of our line,” he admitted. “From everything planned, it should have been Adelaide.” He gestured for her to sit. She did so.

“And she did not?” she asked. Strange that her half sister had been raised with their father believing she would be the one.

“Nay,” he said. “A disappointment in every respect. Never mind, though. Now I have found you.” He smiled, and she was amazed at how his features softened when he did. “Will you stay and let me train you to use it? There is so much to show you.”

The enthusiasm in his voice warmed her heart even though she tried not to let it. This was a strange new world, and she was lost in it. He could guide her to accept and learn about this awesome power they shared. And now that he knew, the fear of him discovering it vanished. She did not have to hide it. She did not want to hide it any longer.

If she accepted his offer, she would not have to.

“Aye, my lord,” she said, nodding.

“Do not misunderstand, Brienne. The power that I have, that you inherited, has been honed and passed down through generation after generation. There is a purpose for it—a great purpose.”

She shivered at those words. She'd heard something like that whispered among those who'd taken her that day.

Bloodlines. Generations. Powers. Destruction.

The young woman Aislinn had spoken only of the gods she worshipped and had not given her much information about those gods in the short time they had.
Was that what he meant?

“Ours is a dangerous power that could destroy us instead of our enemies, so you must give me your word that you will follow my guidance and instructions.”

“Aye, my lord. I wish to learn,” she admitted. And it was the truth, for she had wanted for years to understand it—since the first hints of it had appeared.

He smiled again and nodded. “Speak of it to no one and remain within the walls, at least until you have learned to control it more. Then you shall take your place at my side. I will come for you this night after the others have gone to bed and we will begin. Rest this day. You will need your strength.” He walked to the door and then turned back to her. “This pleases me greatly. You please me.”

And then he was gone, as quickly and as quietly as he'd arrived.

Brienne knew somewhere deep inside that she should be suspicious of such a fortuitous change in her life, that this man had done terrible things to people she knew and to others she'd heard about. But bringing her here, accepting her and the power they shared, and inviting her to learn and be at this side—it tore down her resistance. For so much of her life, she'd long to be claimed, not to be the secret, not to be the one forced to live in darkness.

Now he offered her what she'd wanted.

How could she not grab for it?

*   *   *

William and his men rode out in the morning, invited by Lord Hugh to tour his lands. They spent much of the morning riding through the area around the castle, inspecting the moat and the canals that drained it. Lord Hugh was an amiable host, pointing out various improvements he'd made, instructing William in land management and offering suggestions about crops.

Watching for any signs of discontentment or sedition, William found none. At least none spoken of or whispered where he or his men could hear. And though the weapons he'd seen would arm a very large group of soldiers, they saw no more than would be expected to guard a castle of this size.

Neither did Roger, Gautier, and Armand find anything amiss in the barracks where the guards and others who served in the castle lived. No one talked openly, but they heard neither gossip nor tales passed around. If this man was planning a revolt against the king, there were no signs of it here in his principal holding.

Yet they had been in residence for only one day, so Lord Hugh could be hiding something. Someone good at deception could hide something for months, but there was bound to be a slip somewhere and sometime. A prickling under his skin told William that Lord Hugh was very good.

A messenger came for him, calling Lord Hugh back to see to a matter in the keep and he bade them to continue riding with Alain. William engaged the man in a discussion over the size of fields long enough to seem interested and then gave him leave to return to his
duties. Circling the castle, he rode through the village, again looking for Brienne.

“You look for the girl, Will?” Roger asked as they rode side by side along the path.

“I have not seen her since that day. I . . .” He did not know what or how to say that he was concerned over what had happened to her.

“I've not seen you like this over a woman before,” Roger said. “And I have seen you with many, many women.”

“I find myself thinking about her more and more, even though I know she is not suitable for me once the king's grant comes through. I want to seek her out and speak to her and . . .” He shrugged. “I have not felt this way about a woman before, as you said.”

“She is one of his villagers,” Roger said, nodding his head toward the castle. “She is tied here by family.”

“I understand all of that. I also know she is deeply involved in our mission. And I suspect it is much bigger than even the king suspected.”

“Bigger than treason?” Roger scoffed. “What could the king fear more than losing his throne?”

Losing his life? Losing his soul? William dared not voice those suspicions, but they weighed heavily on him.

“Well, between what happened to you and those strangers,” Gautier said, “and all of the peculiar things we have heard and seen, I know this is not something we have ever dealt with before. It will not be as simple as a battle or a fight, Will. There is something larger and more dangerous at play here now.”

William nodded. “I think we will long for the days of simple fighting by the time our task is done, Roger.”

William could not yet accept the things he suspected, but he knew the time was coming when he would question everything he thought and believed or pay for it with his life.

And knowing that, he prayed that neither he nor his men would pay that price.