"Vanora!"
The redhead looked up. The baby was growing rapidly and Vanora was forced to rely ever more heavily upon Brenna for support. It was only going to get worse for the poor, beautiful blonde in the coming months.
Kahedin thought Kation was getting scarier by the minute. The way she looked increasingly closed off and how penetrating her gaze had become. They marched over to Vanora and the girl whispered to Bors' lover in a fierce undertone.
"Did you say anything about last night to anyone?" she said. "Who knows?"
"No. I didn't say anything. But I did hear some people whispering about an arrest of a local," Vanora said, looking worried. None of them had seen Kation looking this tense before.
"Are you sure no one knows what the man was really doing? Or where he was arrested?"
"Well, only Brenna, but she wouldn't tell anyone."
Kation's jaw clenched, and she glanced at Kahedin: "Can you find her and bring her here, please?" She said in the same urgent whisper.
Kahedin didn't understand the urgency, but fetched her back.
"Um… is something wrong?" Brenna asked, her gentle voice tinged with concern at her friends' worried expression.
"Yes," Kation said bluntly. "You are now part of a very privileged group of people who know the truth of what went on last night. However, if we are going to fix this problem and defeat our enemies, we must keep it a complete secret. I may need you and Vanora to spread lies around the tavern and fort…"
"What? Why?" Brenna looked shocked. She was a good Christian woman, lying was a sin to her.
"Because we must confuse our enemies. They have spies who are always listening and it is imperative that they don't know what we're really doing." Kation explained patiently. "Can you do this? I know it seems bad, but you will save lives. Including mine."
It was a nice touch, since Kation looked so vulnerable in that moment: her hair shorn off, her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale and pinched with pain and anxiety. But she was determined and resolute.
Brenna's resistance wavered and broke under three pleading expressions. "Very well… but I will have to pray a lot to absolve myself." She said, sounding wretched.
"Whatever, just so long as you don't talk to anyone about this," Kation said. "Now that's done, I have to go." She let Vanora squeeze her hands, and nodded to Brenna, before spinning on her heel and marching off. Kahedin sighed and followed her.
Where did she get that energy from?
Once in the records room, Kation opened a cabinet and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "How fast can you read Latin?" she asked, slamming the papyrus onto Arthur's desk and turning back to the shelf for more.
Kahedin gulped. "Not very…" he said, feeling embarrassed.
Kation groaned. "Very well. Do you know someone who can?"
"Um… Jols?" Kahedin guessed.
"Right." She strode past him, heading for the stables.
"Does that mean I can go back to running around after Tristan?" Kahedin shouted after her sarcastically.
"Do what you like, just don't talk or get in my way." She threw back over her shoulder in her 'boy voice'.
He saluted mockingly and stormed off. When she was this focused and dismissive, she wasn't even remotely good company.
~oOo~
"Where is he?" Arthur said impatiently. He and Tristan had been waiting in the stables and Lancelot had now joined them with a bundle of bread and cheese for breakfast.
Tristan didn't immediately answer. He was thinking about the spy. And although he had no idea who sent the man, he had a very good idea where to start asking questions… the dark, red and black thoughts running through his mind retreated to the shadows when he spied Kation charging into the stables, head held high and looking about with an urgent, sharp gaze.
"Ah, Kation!" Arthur raised his arm and beckoned the girl over. She saw their group and visibly sagged, diminishing with every step until she was standing in front of them – pale and small.
"Where have you been?" Tristan growled, feigning his irritation.
"I was looking for your enemies," she mumbled, staring stonily at her boots. She sounded cross.
"I think you've had enough encounters with such people already." Arthur said, his voice tinged with concern. "Where did you go?"
"The records room."
"What? Now the Woads are trying to read the mail?" Lancelot said with a teasing sneer.
Kation's jaw clenched, but she said nothing, not even lifting her head.
"We need you to tell us what you remember about yesterday." Arthur said softly. "Perhaps somewhere more private?"
They all tramped back to the records room and Arthur sat at his desk. "So what happened?" he said.
"I was waiting to be called back in, when I heard someone walking down the hall. They were trying to be sneaky," and here Kation pulled a derisive expression, "but it was a truly pathetic attempt. Just as I was about to confront him, he ran at me and hit me across the back of the head with the pommel of the knife. I was down before I knew what was happening. I awoke sooner than he expected, and must have surprised him because as I tried to reach him, he screamed. Then you slammed the door open, and it struck us both." She shrugged and looked at her boots again. "I think he is a little mad, he screamed when I went to see him this morning."
"You visited him this morning? Why?" Arthur sounded shocked and a little annoyed at this.
"I was curious."
And that was probably the best answer that they could expect. It was clearly a lie, but none of them could see the point in demanding the truth. After all, it would be unfathomable and probably insane.
"And?"
"Nothing sir. He overreacted. It's rather embarrassing, though – he thinks I'm some sort of demon. I took the liberty of not correcting his assumption."
"Why ever not? Do you realise how dangerous such rumours are?" Lancelot said sharply, speaking up for the first time.
Kation finally showed a little more assertion. She glanced at Lancelot incredulously and then slid the look to Arthur, who frowned slightly at her audacity. "Because if he fears me, then we need not physically torture him for information," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He has already said he will tell you anything you want to know."
"Why would he do that?" Arthur asked suspiciously.
"Because not only is he convinced that he shall see me in hell, waiting for him; I also promised him a quick death."
"Who are you to make such promises?" Tristan said sharply, barely resisting the urge to smack her round the head. The sight of her livid wound still made him cringe.
"Your representative, of course, master." She replied promptly, standing a little straighter.
As Lancelot laughed and Arthur repressed his smile to a mere twitch of the lips, Tristan did smack her lightly on the arm. She smiled, knowing that she'd won, and continued. "I really do think he'll talk."
Arthur stood, and his expression was grim and closed once more. "Let's go talk to him, then," he said.
As they all left for the prison, Tristan hung back, detaining Kation for a little private talk. "Since when did you start taking charge?" he growled, standing very close to her. She tipped her head back to glare up at him. The force of her cold expression seemed too great for the situation.
"I have already conducted a most informative interview with that scoundrel; I know who sent him and who we must investigate—"
"And who is that?" he interrupted.
"Baron Paulus Donatus." She replied promptly, not a trace of guile in her voice. "We need to know why he is doing this and what information he was after. To do this, I need another able-minded person to go through the records with me."
"Jols may help… but I think he has to consult Bedwyr about something." Tristan said. "Do you know of anyone else?"
"No. And we can't afford to let anyone else know what's going on. I'll just have to do it myself." She sighed and scrubbed a hand through the crown of her head, ruffling the hair into wild spikes. She winced and the rictus of pain that flashed across her face made Tristan realise just how quickly she had tried to resume her normal activities.
"You ought not to push yourself, so." He murmured, even more quietly than their previous hushed tones.
She waved it off. "I'll be fine. Now go to Arthur – and don't let word spread of this. We must stay as quiet as possible. Our enemies cannot know that we are now hunting them, or they will start to think of ways to retaliate. We are not ready for them to make a move against us."
Tristan nodded, it made sense. "I will convince Arthur." He promised.
"We need to be as fast and silent as wolves," she said, her face alive with keen anticipation. "Come find me after Arthur is finished interrogating the prisoner. Tell me everything."
He barely had time to question her orders before she'd clapped him on the arm in retaliation and stalked back to the records' room.
As he made his way to the cell where the prisoner was being kept, Tristan pondered this new side to his 'slave'. To receive such commands from her was a preposterous notion and an insulting deed. And yet he had not questioned the appointed tasks because he was convinced she knew what she was doing. Her mind was proving to be an engine for tactical thinking and she was clearly, albeit perversely, enjoying herself.