From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [126]
“Averella, please,” Bran said from the back of the boat. “For once, simply let go of your plotting.”
She scowled at Bran, searching for something witty and cutting to say. All that came out was, “I am not plotting.”
“You know for certain he is here?” Sir Rigil asked.
She poured her full attention on Sir Rigil. “Oh, yes. He is in the watchtower. Please. We must try.”
He nodded. “Of course we will. Try and succeed.”
“Sir Rigil. May I speak?” Bran asked.
“Of course.”
“We cannot take Lady Averella’s word alone on this matter or any other. Her personal agenda clouds her reason.”
Averella sucked a breath between her clenched teeth. “My personal agenda was to find you, Master Rennan. And so I have done.”
“Master Rennan,” Sir Rigil said. “I have known Lady Averella all her life. She is not a deceiver.”
Bran barked out a coarse laugh. “Forgive me. But if you believe that, then you do not know her at all, sir.”
“That is most unfair,” Averella said, tears choking her words. She glanced at Jax, who was staring into the sky, his eyes wide and glassy. “I know about the man in the tower because when I was stormed, a gowzal took me there. Only four days ago. The man wanted me to join with the bird and spy on Prince Gidon.”
“Perhaps you were dreaming.”
“I was not dreaming,” Averella yelled.
“Hold!” Jax said, himself again. “Vrell speaks truth. Not only do I sense it, I have just now looked into the watchtower and have seen this man. He must be stopped.”
“Very well.” Sir Rigil stepped over Jax’s bench and pushed down on Averella’s shoulder. “My lady, you and Madam Hoff stay here with…” He motioned back to Noam.
“Absolutely not! We will not stay here.” Averella turned to climb out of the boat. It rocked under her feet.
Sir Rigil gripped her arm. “You will, or we will forget the entire thing and paddle your scowling face out of here.”
“How dare you speak to—”
“You will not win this battle with sharp words. Sit, and let us take care of it, or we will leave. Your choice, my lady.”
Averella’s cheeks burned. As if Sir Rigil had the right to scold her. As if she were a child. As if he had not just praised her for taking out the guard. She sat and folded her arms, frustrated she could not think of a thing to say.
Sir Rigil climbed out of the boat, then Jax and Bran. The three men ran down the stone platform to the stairs.
“We’ll return soon,” Sir Rigil called. “Stay put.”
Averella propped her elbows on her knees and set her cheeks against her fists. Insufferable men!
An idea came over her suddenly. She could watch them. She closed her eyes and peeked into Sir Rigil’s mind. He was at the top of the stairs. He turned and followed Jax into the courtyard. A battle raged before them.
“This will take a while to get through,” Bran said.
Averella’s head spun, and she returned to her own eyes. Watching made her weak. She had forgotten. She took a moment to catch her breath. Then she hung her satchel over her head and shoulder and climbed out of the boat.
“My lady, what are you doing?” Noam asked.
“We must follow the knights. Come.”
“But Sir Rigil asked us to wait,” Noam said.
“There is no time. Sir Rigil, Jax, and Bran are caught in a battle. We must kill the man in the tower ourselves.”
Gren’s face tinged green. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You may wait here then.” Averella stared down along the pier platform.
“Wait!” Noam stepped out of the boat and turned to Gren. “I’m going with her.”
“Fine! I’ll come too.” Gren climbed out, and she and Noam caught up.
Averella took them the opposite direction the men had gone, to a flight of stairs that led to the gatehouse, which was now abandoned. She gazed at the oversized red front doors to the Mahanaim stronghold. Between the entrance and the gatehouse burning wagons and vendor stalls lit the courtyard. What had been deserted a short time ago was now filled with fighting men. Prince Gidon’s army had infiltrated. Red-cloaked men dotted the darkness like flower