Page 35 of Thorns and Echoes

Right then, she barged out of her chambers and into the Escorts’ Hall, pounding her fist on Octavius' door. Behind her, Jerome shifted in mild alarm.

The healer's door opened. Octavius greeted her with a bread roll.

“You didn’t–” she began.

“Eat. Complain after.”

Her eyes narrowed. However, she was very hungry. She took a bite and chewed.

A flicker of relief passed through Octavius’ eyes. He moved to his desk. On second glance, her healer didn’t appear to haveslept. His bed was still made, only slightly ruffled with scattered books and scrolls. More tomes occupied his desk.

He stabbed a finger at an open book, the page showing a diagram of pressure points. “I didn't think much of it before, but he only had scars when we rescued him. No recent wounds.”

Swallowing around a faint sense of renewed nausea, she examined her memories and nodded. “So they were no longer bleeding him. Starving him, clearly. You believe they did something else?”

The healer frowned and tapped his book. “Perhaps. No – it's the most likely explanation. I can't be certain until I've examined him, but…”

“Tell me. I don't blame you for missing it, whatever it is, but I need to know.”

He stared at the pages as though they might provide some last-second insight. Finally, he nodded. “There is a sort of conditioning that is theoretically possible, to suppress a person's will and implant suggestions or commands. Certain people are more susceptible. From speaking with Jerrl, and what I know of Castien, his personality – his compassion and empathy – places him in that category. Nadraken found a way to condition Castien. I believe he didn’t know what he was doing.”

Another drop of hope fell into the palm of her hand. She was desperate for a sip of its poisoned waters. “Has Vern heard your theory?”

“Yes.” He glanced over her shoulder.

The back of her neck tingled. She clearly wasn't fully recovered if she hadn't sensed him behind her. Without acknowledging her steward, she asked, "Can this conditioning be removed?"

Octavius grunted. "Theoretically. The chances are higher if we know precisely how it was administered."

“Then I will find out.”

Vern finally deigned to speak. "A wild theory is all this is. We have no proof. It's too dangerous."

As she thought – he wanted to join her in the capacity of an assassin. She spun to pin him with a glare. "We will bring him back alive, Vern. I do not authorize you to kill him. Either you agree, or you stay behind. I will tie you up if I have to."

Vern went still. He was likely calculating the sincerity of her threat. She held his stare.

Dipping his chin slightly, he said, "Bringing him back only gives Nadraken another chance to kill you. How can we trust him again?"

It was a perfectly valid and logical concern.

“He didn't kill me. The vial wasn't empty.” Only a few drops remained, but perhaps it had been enough to save her. Perhaps he'd fought. She had to believe he was still her Castien. “We will bring him back.”

—

After a healer-ordered proper breakfast, she bathed and allowed Madeline to wash her hair. The aid wasn't necessary, but Jerome had a suspiciously overprotective frown on his brow until her friend pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then his skin developed an odd shade of pink.

Her mild amusement slipped away as she listened to Madeline whisper about the gifts Jerome kept leaving her. The first sunhat had been mortifyingly inspired by Laureline. To his credit, the captain quickly found more practical options. He gave her a sword, lightweight and expertly crafted. Maddy had basic training, just enough to satisfy Jana and later Vern. Apparently, Jerome was training her privately. She blushed as Anais raised a brow.

“He's a good teacher,” Madeline mumbled. She handed over a towel. “I always hated how the Masters-at-arms shouted so much, and he never shouts at me.”

He had better not.

Her handmaiden drew a brush through wet hair. “He promised to help me with my archery when he returns. Are you sure I can't join you? Just until the border, perhaps?”

Anais tugged on a shirt and buckled on her formal leathers. “We need to move fast and light. The fewer people, the better. I'm sorry, Maddy.”

Madeline nodded. “No, I understand. Be careful.”