Fourth Interlude: Loyalty

Blackthorn Manor was dark and silent, but it wasn’t empty. Erin had been at the door for only a few moments before it swung inwards, revealing a stern-faced servant.

“Lady Valpari is resting and not to be disturbed,” the woman said, glaring at Erin as though that alone would keep a norn warrior out.

“I’m not here to disturb anyone,” Erin said, but she could see the servant was going to argue.

“It’s fine, Lydia,” a voice called from inside. “Let her in.”

The door closed behind Erin, plunging her into darkness. Once her eyes had adjusted, she spotted Ruby standing at the foot of the grand staircase, arms folded.

“How is she?” Erin asked.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed, as though she was considering refusing to answer. “It was only a flesh wound,” she said finally. “If Taria had her way, she’d be up and about already.”

“Thank you for evacuating her from the battle.”

An angry retort seemed to form on Ruby’s lips, but it died away before it could be spoken. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have gone after Artair instead.”

Ruby actually sighed. “I’ll leave the vengeance to your guild. I’m here to protect Taria, that’s all.”

Erin studied Ruby’s face. The girl had made it abundantly clear that she liked fighting more than most things in life. That she’d chosen to stay with Taria instead spoke volumes about what she valued most.

“You chose loyalty,” Erin said.

“I chose family,” Ruby shot back, “even if these damned Valparis don’t always want me around.”

“They do want you,” Erin said, moving towards the stairs. “They’re just not always good at showing it.”

Ruby’s derisive snort said more than words ever could.

Taria wasn’t in bed, even if she was supposed to be resting. Erin found her in the same sitting room she’d visited before, sitting in an armchair and almost buried by blankets.

“Ruby tells me you’re doing well,” Erin said. She tried to perch on the arm of another chair, then hurriedly straightened when it creaked beneath her weight.

Taria sniffed. “I’m not an invalid.”

“You took an arrow to the ribs. That would slow anyone down.”

“Hmm. Well, if you’re not here to change my bandages, I assume you’ve brought an apology.”

Erin folded her arms. “I don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“Don’t you?” Taria eyed her for several heartbeats. “Not even for losing my granddaughter? Again?”

“We’re all to blame for that,” Erin replied. “Marissa pulled the wool over our eyes. Artair causes disruption at every opportunity. And yes, we failed to stand our ground this time ‒ but that goes for you, too.”

Taria’s eyes narrowed, making her look so much like Ruby that Erin almost laughed. “Leadership suits you. Your guild fought well in the Shiverpeaks, I must admit. Do you finally have them all under control?”

Erin thought of the guild hall, newly rebuilt and sturdier than ever ‒ and then she thought of her guild. They’d followed her orders without question in Wayfarer Foothills. They’d fought with perfect precision. And afterwards, when it was time to make fresh plans, they hadn’t griped and argued. Even Oska, tense with fear, had been willing to listen.

“It’s not about control,” she said finally. “Light’s Memory work with me, not for me.”

“How very modern of you,” Taria said, but there was less disdain in her tone than her words implied. “What are your next steps?”

“I have scouts out as we speak,” Erin replied. “Caolinn, Oska, and Amber are following leads out in the field. Darr will collate their findings. Marissa and Jean have gone to the Priory to talk to contacts there.”

That was a job Erin had wanted to do herself, but only because she wanted to see Marta again. Right now, personal feelings would have to wait.

Taria tutted. “And is Marissa actually cooperating?”

“She is.” She hadn’t apologised, of course, and they all knew she never would. She seemed to be willing to follow orders, though, and that was enough for Erin. “And Roan and Ivar are preparing a plan of attack once we have our target.”

For the first time, Taria pushed herself forwards in her chair. “Our target,” she repeated. “You know where Auri is.”

It wasn’t a question. Erin nodded reluctantly. “I know who she’s with,” she clarified, “which is close enough.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t start with that little tidbit?”

Because we’ve been betrayed, Erin wanted to say, and even though I knew it was coming, it still hurts.

“I’m handling the situation,” she said instead. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Taria sat back again, mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure. “I see. You consider this an internal matter. You don’t want my help.”

“I didn’t say that.” Erin tried to keep her tone even. The last thing she needed was to make an enemy of Taria now. “But this isn’t like chasing Artair. Some of my guild know the culprit better than an outsider ever could.”

“And you’re certain this ‘culprit’ has my granddaughter?”

Erin wanted to deny it, but there was really no way around it. Apart from Artair, there was only one individual who’d shown enough interest in Auri to want to kidnap her. Unfortunately, Erin was starting to think Auri might have been better off in Artair’s hands.

“They have her,” Erin replied, “but they can’t hide forever. Light’s Memory will take care of that.”

Taria suddenly sighed. She looked ancient and weary, and her gnarled fingers were clutched tight to the arms of her chair. “I won’t stand in your way, Erin. If this is a guild matter, I’ll leave it in your hands ‒ but you must make me one promise.”

Erin swallowed uncomfortably. She knew what was coming, but she nodded anyway.

Taria raised one trembling hand, beckoning Erin closer. “Whatever it takes, whoever stands against you ‒ and yes, whoever you have to kill along the way ‒ you will bring my granddaughter home.”