fingers gently, then let go. ‘Come on,’ she said. They skirted the blood and hurried after Oliver, who was just striding away from his lieutenant, on his way back to Alberon’s tent.
‘Sir Knight!’
He turned, surprise clear on his face. ‘Protector Lady.’
‘Sir Knight.’ She came to a halt before him, gazing up into his face. ‘You will do your best to open dialogue between the Prince and Lord Razi?’
He nodded. ‘Aye, Protector Lady. I shall.’
‘It is vital, sir. You understand? You must not play politics with this.’
The knight stayed silent for a moment, reading her face, and Wynter knew that her suspicions had been right. Oliver was still in two minds as to Razi’s usefulness to the Prince and was in no way certain that he would repair communications between the brothers.
In an appeal to their history, Wynter softened the formality of her tone and lowered her voice: ‘Listen to me, Oliver,’ she said. ‘I believe I understand why it is that our fathers wanted the machine forgotten. I suspect they used it before, to end the Haun Invasion.’
Oliver frowned. ‘With respect, Protector Lady. If that were the case, I should know of it, but I had never seen nor heard of these machines before Jon—’
‘Listen to me, Oliver. I suspect they also used it . . .’ Wynter hesitated. She looked back at the wide patch of darkness on the ground.
Oliver’s eyes followed hers and he stared in confusion at the bloodstain. ‘Also used it for what?’
‘Where were you when the Haun were defeated?’ she whispered.
‘I was up North. Jon sent me North to fetch his father home.’
‘And when the Lost Hundred were expelled?’
Oliver was silent for a moment. ‘I was still in the North, mopping up the last of the Combermen,’ he said slowly. ‘The late King left me there to help finish things up. I didn’t get home until well after the Hundred were gone.’
Wynter met his eye. He began to understand.
‘Oh no, Lady!’ he said, appalled. ‘The Hundred were just sent east. That is all. They were simply . . .’
His voice trailed away and they gazed at each other. Wynter could see memories falling into place for him, connections being made, things clarifying. His eyes grew wide in horrified comprehension. She reached behind her and took Christopher’s hand. He held gently on. I am here.
Oliver went to speak and Wynter shook her head, willing him not to articulate what they were both thinking.
‘Lorcan,’ he managed finally. ‘Lorcan was destroyed when I got home. I thought it was because of your poor mother . . . I must admit I got very impatient with him after a while. He lay in his bed for months. He spoke to no one. He was . . .’ Oliver moaned in despair and guilt. ‘Sweet Christ,’ he whispered. ‘I was only fourteen. How was I to understand?’
‘And the King?’ asked Wynter. ‘Our present King. How was he?’
‘My God,’ said Oliver, remembering, ‘my God.’
‘How was he?’ she whispered again.
‘I thought it was because of his father,’ cried Oliver. ‘Though they never got on, sometimes it happens that way: a son mourns for what he never had – I had thought he was grief-stricken on account of the late King’s death.’
‘He was in a bad way?’ asked Christopher softly.
‘Jon was drunk for almost two months,’ said Oliver. He glanced defensively at Christopher. ‘Not falling down, you understand, but just . . . he did not stop drinking for . . .’ He trailed off and shook his head again. ‘My God.’
‘Neither the Lord Razi nor the Prince seem aware of this, Sir Oliver. I believe it may aid reconciliation between all parties if these things were made clear.’
‘Might help them understand their da a little better, all right,’ murmured Christopher.
‘It will be a delicate business,’ said Wynter, ‘approaching sons with such a secret. Particularly one their father never wanted them to share. We will need to be very gentle.’
Oliver looked at her kindly. ‘Wyn,’ he said, ‘Lorcan was a most wonderful man. Whatever the circumstances of this terrible . . . this terrible act, I should not like you to think that he—’
Wynter snapped a hand up, cutting him off. ‘I do not need you to defend my father, Sir Knight.’
Oliver drew himself up and blinked to silence.
‘You may talk to the Prince,’ she said harshly. ‘I shall talk to my Lord Razi. Between us we will get this done and that will be the end of it. We can all return