Halbert smiled. "The guard is sleeping."
Alayna shook her head. Obviously bored with the night duty of guarding a child's room, he had been trying to balance a knife on his fingertip. "No. I saw him."
Halbert said, "Look again. He is asleep now."
Despite the chill this casual use of magic sent up her spine, Alayna tiptoed back to her vantage point and saw that the man's chin was resting deep in his chest.
Directly behind her, Mordred asked, "Will he sleep through anything?" and that was the first she was aware that her companions had followed close on her heels this time.
Halbert said, "Don't concern yourselves with the guard. You and Galen watch this door in case Worthington, or Payne, or whoever that was who left, chooses now to return. Lady Alayna and I will go upstairs."
Mordred's eyes narrowed, then slid to Alayna's for confirmation: He was concerned, she saw, despite all the bickering. But it made sense this way. If Halbert could magically keep the man in front of the door asleep, then best that Galen and Mordred guard their backs from any of the castle inhabitants who weren't asleep.
She nodded reassurance, that she was satisfied with the plan, then she headed for the stairs. Easy, she told herself, forcing caution into her steps. Slow and easy. She didn't know how strong Halbert's magic was, whether it could keep a man asleep despite any mistakes she might make. She held her breath, as if that could make a difference, until she and the wizard were by the sleeping guard.
Halbert whispered a charm, gently touching the man's throat. Alayna cringed, expecting the man to jump at the touch, but he didn't.
With her hand on the door, Alayna was barely able to control her impatience.
Then the wizard reached into his large sleeve and pulled out a knife, which he plunged into the man's chest.
Alayna's breath escaped in a hiss.
Halbert watched her as he wiped the knife on the man's shirt. "The spell," he whispered, "was so he wouldn't cry out."
Alayna was having trouble breathing quietly, and then she realized that she no longer had to be concerned by that.
Halbert said, "Mordred, I think, underestimates the power of magic. You have a tendency to overestimate."
Alayna shook her head. "Wait here so you don't frighten Kiera," she whispered. Silently she opened the door.
CHAPTER 11
Somehow, seeing Kiera every day, she had forgotten how much of Toland was in their daughter's pale and round face. After an absence of four days, she could see it anew, and her heart ached. She brushed the reddish brown hair off Kiera's forehead and bent down close. "Kiera." It was half whisper, half kiss.
Kiera's eyes opened immediately. "Momma." Either she was responding to Alayna's lowered voice, or she had guessed to whisper. She said, "I knew you were coming."
"Of course I came." Alayna ended their hug sooner than she would have wanted. "We must be quick, now. Where are your clothes?"
Kiera kicked off the blanket and Alayna realized she already was dressed, down to her shoes. "I knew you were coming," she repeated. "But I fell asleep."
A familiar cold spot started in Alayna's spine, about midway up, and quickly spread. What had been disconcerting in Toland, and now in Halbert, still somehow seemed a perversion in her own little child. Still, "Good," she said, for it would save time. "Come."
Just then there was a tap on the door. "My Lady," Halbert's voice urged.
"That's a friend," Alayna explained as Kiera stiffened. "His name is Halbert, and he's a wizard—the way your papa was—and he helped me find you. Don't be afraid."
Alayna opened the door and Halbert took the time to smile down at Kiera. "Hello, Kiera," he said in a calm and gentle voice.
Kiera clung to Alayna's hand and tried to move behind her leg, choosing—Alayna thought impatiently—the worst time to become timid of strangers.
"Let me carry her," the wizard offered.
"I can walk," Kiera mumbled into Alayna's thigh.
Halbert continued to smile as he reached down for her. "It will be faster," he said.
"Not if I kick and scream."
Halbert froze, obviously weighing how seriously to take the threat of noise.
Annoyed and embarrassed, Alayna said, "I'm sorry. She is not usually like this."
Halbert's smile was gone. "The strain, no doubt," he said in the tone of someone who has never raised children but is confident he would be better at it than most. He gave a mock bow and indicated for Kiera to go ahead with her mother.
"I'll carry you," Alayna said, and was relieved when Kiera didn't protest. Alayna picked her up and held her so that she wouldn't see the dead man slumped in his chair by the door.
Kiera let herself be carried down the stairs, but when they got to the bottom, Kiera's fingers tightened in Alayna's hair. In a shaking voice, she whispered, "Who's that?"
Alayna whipped around, her hand going to her sword, recognizing simultaneously both that there was no time to put Kiera down and that, by holding Kiera, she could well be—all unintentionally—using her child as a shield between herself and danger. But it was only Galen and Mordred, Galen standing with his back to them, guarding the corridor to the entrance, Mordred facing them, watching to make sure nobody came out of any of the doors that opened onto the balcony overlooking the Hall.
"That's Sir Mordred," she explained as she put Kiera down. Much, much safer that way. "Another friend." She tugged on Kiera's hand, but Kiera wouldn't budge. She was probably afraid because of the naked sword in Mordred's hand. Across the room, Mordred moved the blade slightly to the side, which could have been to greet or reassure Kiera, or an indication of impatience.
"No," Kiera said, "not that one. Behind."
"That's Galen. Don't you recognize Uncle Galen?"
"No."
Alayna's patience snapped. "Well, come along anyway."
Galen had turned to see what the delay was, but now from behind him came a loud, surprised "Hey!" Quickly followed by, "Sir Edgar! Ho, Osric!"
After being so close to succeeding, the shout left Alayna too stunned to move. The man who had left the castle ... Mordred's prediction that he was sure to return at the worst possible moment had come true.
Galen disappeared around the corner to deal with the returning knight; Mordred dashed into the Hall to face whoever came to answer the man's shout. He sped by Alayna, Halbert, and Kiera, and took the stairs two at a time.
A man—from Halbert's description of beard and pocks it had to be Sir Edgar—stepped out of a bedroom. He wore only an ankle-length nightshirt, but he was carrying a long unsheathed sword. He looked them over appraisingly, then gave a smile that looked more like an impression of a smile than any real thing.
Alayna finally pulled loose from Kiera's grasp, and belatedly drew her own sword. She pushed Kiera to Halbert to keep her out of harm's way. Surely the greatest danger was from upstairs, where the whole household must be roused by now. It was only a matter of time before they all converged with drawn weapons on the landing.
In fact, Alayna had made it only halfway up the stairs when the door closest to the stairs burst open. This was a house guard, who had taken the time to get not only his sword, but also a shield. He looked from his right, where his lord was fighting Mordred, to his left, to Alayna.
He came toward her: an ugly man, with a big nose, pocked skin, and dark hair. The man who had been with the knights who had attacked her.
Alayna was barely able to make it to the landing before the man thrust to her left with his sword, and simultaneously butted her right shoulder with his shield. The realization that his strategy was to drive her closer to the stairs edge didn't help Alayna, who was forced to take a step back anyway.
Beyond, she was aware of Edgar dropping to the floor with a groan, but now his cousin Osric came at Mordred from the other end of the upstairs hallway.
From behind, Alayna could hear Galen running up the stairs.
The guard she was fighting took a step back and tripped over t
he body of Edgar.
Alayna hesitated an instant, and in that instant Galen lunged up the final stair and slashed his sword across the man's throat. Alayna watched in fascinated horror as blood spurted. The man dropped his sword, frantically holding both hands to his throat in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, and looked up at her—her—in bewildered pain and surprise before he slumped to the floor.
Beyond the dying man, Sir Osric dropped his sword and fell to his knees. "Mercy!" he cried.
Mordred wavered, undoubtedly wary of a trick, and Osric, still on his knees, sidled up and grabbed his hand. "I don't know what he has told you. But he was behind all this. It was his plan, I swear."
"What?" Mordred demanded, his eyes narrowing. "He?"
Osric looked around the room wildly, finally settling his gaze on Halbert. "Him. He told us to get the child, but Edgar said we could use her, so we said there had been no chance, that we hadn't pulled it off."
Alayna's mind sluggishly refused to sort out this jumble of accusations.
Galen, however, cried, "Liar!" and drove his sword into the man's back.
Still Alayna's mind seemed to lag behind. She stared, unable to react—unable to move, or to think beyond, Galen killed that man.
Mordred did not have the same trouble. "He had yielded," he said huskily, thin-lipped and nearly shaking with anger.
"He was a treacherous liar and he would have taken the first opportunity to come at us from behind," Galen countered.
Which was certainly true.
But still it seemed a distorted replaying of the scene in the wizard's castle, when Mordred had scoffed at chivalry and Galen had been angry with him. Nothing was right anymore. Alayna could make no sense of it. I must go back home, she thought. She needed to take Kiera away from this, return home and try to put all this behind her. The servants of Bel Bois apparently knew better than to come out, so everything was over. It didn't make any difference whether things made sense or not. She turned to get Kiera.
And saw Halbert, his hand over Kiera's mouth, dragging her to the door.
"Kiera!" Alayna cried.
"Rest easy," the wizard said soothingly. "I am simply taking her to safety, away from these sights unbecoming for a child to see." He was trying to get Kiera under his right arm, to carry her, but his left hand fingered his red pendant, a gesture Alayna remembered and found sudden overwhelming comfort in.
Yes, she thought. Get Kiera away. That had been her thought, too. The ruby seemed to glow, even in the erratic candle and torch light, and to show a dizzying depth she hadn't noticed before. Somehow that seemed to be of more importance than anything else in the world.
"Relax," Halbert cooed. "No harm."
"No harm," Alayna repeated.
"Alayna!" Mordred spoke sharply from behind. She heard a scuffle, and knew Galen had prevented him from moving to her side. She wished that they would be quiet, stop their incessant bickering, so that she could concentrate on the beautiful ruby which, even as Halbert stepped away from her, seemed to enlarge and fill more of her vision.
Kiera twisted her mouth away from Halbert's hand, though she couldn't break the wizard's grasp entirely. "Momma!"
Distracted, Alayna assured her, "Hush, all is well."
From behind she heard Mordred cry, "Galen, let go of me. Can't you see—Alayna, don't look at him."
Halbert said, "Gently, Galen."
Alayna could hear and understand his words; she knew that something was terribly wrong—with her, with Galen—but somehow the energy required to be troubled was too far away to summon.
"Try not to harm our young friend," the wizard was saying. "I see an illustrious future possible for our Mordred, one whose purposes run parallel to my own."
"Not likely," Mordred spat.
Halbert shrugged. "Just stay up there. I would rather not kill you, but I might."
"Momma!" Kiera called again.
Halbert whipped her around and shook her. "Your mother wants you to come with me. Now behave."
Alayna knew she should be upset with the wizard for talking to her daughter that way. But she couldn't say so. She knew she should be upset with Galen for preventing Mordred from doing anything to stop the wizard. But all she could say was "Kiera, behave."
"You leave my mother alone!" Kiera shouted at the wizard. She tried to yank herself out of his grip, and he pulled her in closer to his chest. "Let go of me!" She pushed against him with her thin arms, squirming and trying to drop to the floor, her hands tangled in his robes and the chain of his pendant.
Not strong enough, Alayna thought in that deep part of herself she seemed unable to reach. She's just a five-year-old child.
"Stop that!" Halbert shook her harder and jerked her out to arm's length to get her flailing hands away from him. But her fingers had gotten caught. The chain snapped, sending the ruby flying. Immediately Halbert shoved Kiera away and scrambled for the stone.
How interesting, Alayna thought vaguely, feeling she was probably witnessing something important, but she couldn't think why it was important and speculated maybe it was important to somebody else, not her.
Kiera also scrambled after the stone. Somebody's foot—Kiera's or Halbert's—sent it skittering across the floor ahead of them. Alayna, from her vantage on the landing, could see where it ended but could only think without excitement or worry, There it is.
Halbert looked around wildly. Kiera, younger, shorter, saw where the stone had come to rest; and she reached it first.
Halbert caught up a step later and clutched at her shoulder to yank her away. She stamped her foot down with all her five-year-old strength.
Rubies don't break, Alayna thought. But perhaps it was only ruby-colored. Or perhaps holding magic made it fragile. Up on the landing and half the Hall away, Alayna heard the loud crack!
Her vision momentarily shimmered, then focused to an almost unnatural clarity. She saw Halbert's face freeze in a grimace: She could make out each of the indentations made by his fingers in the fabric at Kiera's shoulder.
Then finally—finally—the invisible hand that had seemed to be smothering her lifted.
My God, Kiera! Alayna thought. She ran for the stairs. But before she got to them, she saw that incredible wrinkles were forming on Halbert's face. By the time she was halfway down, the wrinkles had become deep fissures. And as she reached the bottom, Halbert dropped to the floor and fell apart like a log that maintains its form while it burns, only to fall into ashes at the slightest touch.
Alayna fell to her knees and swept Kiera into her arms.
She hated magic. She hated it, hated it, hated it.
Kiera was crying, but Alayna felt only tired, and all cried out. In any case, it was over. It was finally over. "Everything is all right," she assured Kiera. "Everything is fine now."
She looked back to the others. Mordred had stopped partway down the stairs. Galen, still on the landing, was doubled over. Obviously, he had been more under the wizards influence than she, and for a longer time. Since Castle Burrstone, she realized now that she thought about it. Halbert had forced his unknightly behavior, which had been the wizards excuse to send them away, so that he could set his guards on them yet play innocent benefactor when ... when...
Alayna shied away from that thought.
"Galen," she called to him, "are you hurt?"
Mordred went back for him, starting once more up the stairs.
Galen straightened. Then lifted his sword.
Mordred stopped. "Galen?"
"We must get the girl," Galen said, his voice gritty and hollow.
Alayna got up from her knees, but Kiera wouldn't let go, so that Alayna had to either stay where she was, or break away. For a moment she hesitated, and Kiera said, "No, don't go. That's not Uncle Galen."
Which, in her heart, was what Alayna suspected, feared. Knew.
Mordred glanced from Kiera's face to Galen's upraised sword, then took a step back. Hesitantly he raised his own weapon. "Galen ..." he said in a mos
t reasonable voice.
Galen lunged.
Mordred blocked with his sword, barely in time.
"No!" Alayna took a step closer. It wasn't fair. Halbert was dead. His effect on Galen should have died, too.
Mordred parried another blow, but disbelief, or perhaps it was friendship, prevented him from taking advantage of the opening Galen had left.
"Galen!" Alayna cried, hoping to call him back to reason.
"That's not Uncle Galen!" Kiera shouted. "Uncle Galen is dead!"
Alayna slapped her and Kiera staggered, finally letting go.
Mordred had slammed against Galen, and—still one step lower—backed him into the wall. "Galen," he said from between clenched teeth. "Galen."
Galen went limp and closed his eyes. "I don't know what happened," he said, sounding weak and confused. "The stone, the red stone..."
Thank God he's come hack to his senses, Alayna thought.
Mordred must have thought the same thing. He stepped back, and Galen slashed with his sword, obviously intending a decapitation. Mordred jerked back and down.
Almost in time. But he was bleeding where the sword's tip had grazed his cheekbone.
After all the deaths she'd witnessed since the evening began, the injury was nothing. But this was Mordred. And it was Galen who had done it.
Still only halfway to the stairs, Alayna watched in numb horror as Galen kicked Mordred in the chest. Mordred teetered on the edge of the stair. For a moment he seemed to have regained his balance. For a moment. Then he fell backwards, hitting several steps before he rolled over the open side and dropped about twice a man's height into the Hall below.
Galen started down the stairs.
Mordred staggered back to his feet, but when he tried to pick up his sword, it slipped through his fingers and, in fact, he seemed incapable of lifting his right arm.
Galen was halfway down the stairs.
Mordred held onto his right elbow with his left hand and managed to pick up the sword.