Treason Keep by Jennifer Fallon Page B

He had to give at least give the impression he could think straight. “Is he on our side, this Garet Warner?”
    Tarja shrugged. “That remains to be seen.”
    Garet Warner proved to be a nondescript-looking man of average height, who wore the red jacket of a Defender and the rank insignia of a commandant. He had a balding head, a deceptively quiet voice and a piercing mind. The Warlord studied him by the torchlight of the hastily reconstructed great hall of Treason Keep. Damin was unsure where the name had come from. It certainly wasn’t officially named that, and one referred to the ruin as “Treason Keep” in the Lord Defender’s hearing at their peril. It seemed fitting, though. The Defenders were here to protect their nation from invasion, but they had broken any number of oaths to get here.
    The ruin was deserted when they arrived some months ago, and a much sturdier and strategically more useful keep, closer to the northern border, would soon replace it. In the interim, Treason Keep was the closest thing to a permanent structure on the open, grassy plains of northern Medalon.
    The commandant’s expression gave away nothing as Tarja and Damin entered the hall. Garet Warner stood in front of the huge fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back as they walked toward him. Mahina sat in a chair on his right; Jenga in another chair opposite the former First Sister.
    Tarja nodded warily to Garet when they reached the hearth. “Garet.”
    “Tarja,” Garet acknowledged. “You’ve a knack for keeping your head on your shoulders, I’ll grant you that.”
    Tarja smiled faintly, which made Damin rest a little easier. There was something about this visitorthat marked him as dangerous, although Damin wasn’t thinking clearly enough to define the feeling exactly. He hoped this man was on their side. He would be a bad enemy.
    “I can’t help being hard to kill. Commandant Warner, this is the Warlord of Krakandar, Damin Wolfblade.”
    “Our new and somewhat unexpected ally. My Lord.”
    “Commandant,” Damin greeted him. “You come from the Citadel, I hear. Do you have news?”
    “Questions, more than news,” Garet replied, his glance taking in all of them. “The Quorum is understandably suspicious about the First Sister’s extended absence from the Citadel. The orders arriving at the Citadel, under her seal, seem rather at odds with her…previous decisions.”
    “The First Sister has had a change of heart in recent months,” Tarja said.
    “Is she still alive?”
    “Of course, she’s alive,” Jenga declared. “Do you think I would be a party to murder?”
    “I’m not here to give my opinion, my Lord,” Garet told him with a shrug. “I am here to investigate the issues raised by the Quorum. And there is plenty of reason to be suspicious. You left the Citadel with an army to capture and execute an escaped convict. Six months later, here you are, sitting on the northern border with that same escaped convict pardoned and a member of your staff, a foreign warlord, as your ally, preparing to fight a nation we very recently considered our friend. All with the approval of the First Sister, who, it iswidely acknowledged, was in complete disagreement with you on all of those matters. The remarkable thing about all this is that they haven’t sent someone to investigate sooner.”
    “There’s a perfectly logical explanation,” Damin offered helpfully.
    “And I look forward to hearing it,” Garet told him. “It will be fascinating, I’m sure. But first, I must insist on seeing Sister Joyhinia.”
    “You doubt my word, Garet?” Jenga asked.
    “Not at all, my Lord. But I have my orders.”
    “Very well,” Jenga agreed, with some reluctance. “You shall see her. Perhaps once you have, things will make a little more sense.”
    “I hope so, my Lord.”
    “Sister Mahina? Would you be so kind as escort Commandant Warner to the First Sister’s quarters?”
    Mahina frowned. “I don’t like to disturb her