The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1) by Cas Peace

to ask you how he should respond to a message he’s just received.
    She was surprised. He wants to ask me how he should respond? Elias was a capable monarch; he had never yet asked her advice on matters of state.
    You’ll understand when you hear it, Taran said darkly. I’ll skip over the formalities and give you the gist. It’s written by the Cleric Patrio of the Serna Bay order and dated almost three months ago: ‘I write to inform you of the death of the prisoner Baron Hezra Reen, whom you sent into our keeping three years ago. We believe it to be a case of suicide, as it appears the Baron slit his wrists before casting himself into the sea from the island’s highest point. Despite a search by the fishermen who supply us, I regret his body could not be found.’
    Sullyan was silent when the Adept finished reading, absorbing what she had heard and sorting through her feelings. It had taken some time for the letter to reach Port Loxton; the island off Serna Bay was both distant and inaccessible, which is why it had been considered ideal. She heard Taran’s voice again.
    Brynne? Elias is waiting for your reply.
    Is the messenger still there? she asked.
    There was a brief pause while Taran relayed her question to the King. No, Elias let him go. It’s not as if an answer was expected.
    I thought he wanted to know how to respond? Was it brought by a member of the order?
    Again there was a pause. No, it was a runner from the nearest garrison. One of the fishermen who supply the island took the Cleric Patrio’s report to the garrison commander, and a runner brought it from there.
    She gave a mental shrug. So what exactly does Elias wish me to advise him on?
    This time the pause was longer. Sullyan sat trading looks with Blaine while she waited for Taran to reply. The General, of course, already knew the contents of the message.
    Taran’s voice came through once more. He’s confused and unhappy, Brynne. I don’t think he knows what he feels about the Baron’s death, and he’s looking for some kind of reassurance from you. He hasn’t actually asked me to convey this, but I think he’d like you to come and discuss the message with him.
    What is there to discuss? No, Taran, do not pass that comment on to Elias!
    Sullyan broke the link to speak with her general. “You know he wants me to go to the capital?”
    Blaine sighed. “I expected as much. You’d better go, Brynne. If he’s getting himself worked up over this he’ll not settle until he’s talked it out.”
    “Talking will not alter what has happened. I should have thought he would be relieved by it, not worried.”
    The General stared at her. “He’s never got over what they did to him. He’ll never forget what they made him do to you. You’ll just have to accept that he’s dependent on you now and hope that, in time, his shame will recede and he’ll be able to move on. Until then, we have to do all we can to help him. It won’t take up much of your time, after all.”
    She stood, accepting his words. “Sometimes, Mathias, I regret my own cleverness in forging the agreement with Timar. Crossing the Veils like this may be just too convenient now.”
    Blaine smiled. “You don’t mean that.”
    Sullyan shook her head and relayed her agreement to Taran. The relief she felt from him was palpable.
    Within the hour she had washed and changed and was sitting in the King’s private audience chamber, drinking fellan and reading for herself the parchment the King had received.
    The message had brought all the bad emotions flooding back for Elias. She wouldn’t have thought this news could upset him so. He should have been dancing for joy that the traitor was dead, not feeling the empty dread and nagging sense of foreboding that exuded from him. He was annoyed with himself now she was here, she could tell, and ashamed of his weakness. Diplomatically ignoring his turmoil, she laid the parchment aside.
    “Suicide,” she murmured, her eyes unfocused. Elias