Page 19 of Triumph at Pemberley

Abandoned. Like him.

He pushed that thought away as they passed a disused redoubt, an earthwork wall surrounded by a ditch, apparently built for military training early in the war. A few scrawny sheep grazed on the heath, casting nervous looks in their direction.

“This should do,” Roderick said to the gamekeeper. “It would be best for you to leave us now.”

The man shrugged, but turned and walked away after Jack pressed a coin into his hand.

Jack turned to Roderick. “What now?” His voice was clipped. He knew Roderick was trying to help him, but he did not want to be here.

Roderick watched him warily. “I can show you how to use your bond here, if you wish, but I cannot do it against your will.”

“I agreed, did I not?”

“Your heart is not in it, and for work of this sort, that matters.” Roderick sounded calmer than Jack’s tone warranted. “Can you explain to me why you do not want to use your power?”

Jack stood silently for a long minute. “The royals would do nothing to help me, yet they expect me to protect them.”

“Then do not protect them. The King’s Bond is yours alone, and no one can force you to use it. You can choose not to do so.”

“So you think I should just let Napoleon invade?” Jack said incredulously.

“No, I think you should decide who you do want to protect. Let the royals go hang as far as I am concerned! Is there anyone you do want to help? Friends from your Army days? People from Pemberley, or servants at Darcy House? That family from Prussia who is staying with you?”

Jack’s eyes grew unfocused as he stared off into the heath, but the anger eased out of him. He did want to save everyone at Darcy House, especially Mrs. Hartung and the children. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I would like to protect some of them.”

“Well, then. Choose one of them to hold in your mind, and when you feel ready – if you feel ready – then come to stand behind me and put your hands on my shoulders. That will give me some access to your Bond, and I will demonstrate how to use it. It is not something one can explain in words, as you will see,” he finished apologetically.

Jack grumbled. “I was much happier leaving this land Talent business to Will.”

“I can hardly blame you.”

He thought about Mrs. Hartung, how tired she had looked when she first arrived, and how she had been forced to flee both Prussia and France. And little Alexandrine and Friedrich, who had been quiet and afraid their first few days at Darcy House. He would not let anything happen to them. “I suppose I am as ready as I ever will be.” Jack took his position behind Roderick, his hands resting on the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Good. Now, reach down through your feet, into the land, connecting to the power there. Ah, yes, I can feel it now. You have been practicing.”

“A little.” More than that, actually, but he did not want to admit it. Still, he liked how the land welcomed him, all the life under the surface.

“You will feel me touching it, too, through you – but what is this? There has already been a working of the King’s Bond here, an ancient one, over there.” He pointed to the left, without turning to look. “Perhaps two miles away.”

“The gameskeeper mentioned an old Roman hillfort.”

Roderick shook his head. “Older than the Romans, and an impressive work. No matter. It should not affect us.” He shifted his feet, as if digging them into the ground. “You have a great deal of power there, and it stretches a long way.”

Jack ducked his head, embarrassed. Power flowed through him, amorphous and strong. “Now what?”

“Give me a moment, please, to gain my balance – ah, there it is. I am going to raise an earthwork. Try to follow what I do. I will go slowly.” Roderick slowly straightened, looking almost like a dancer, and his hands began to move, coming together in front of him as if he was cupping something precious. Then he spread them out to the side.

With a deep breath, Roderick began to raise his arms, but clearly with great effort, as if lifting an impossible, invisible load. Beads of sweat broke out on his neck

Jack felt half-drunk from the rush of magic, even though he was not doing anything. It felt as if he was sharing Roderick’s body, as if the Welshman’s arms were his own, pushing through the earth. The land trembled beneath them, the heath moving back and forth like a ship at sea. A loud grinding, the clatter of it almost deafening.

Then he saw it, and his mouth fell open. The land was rising around them in a ridge. Not overturned dirt, but remaining covered with plants, the bracken and heather trembling but apparently remaining rooted. Up and up, until a new bulwark stood easily six feet tall around them, blocking out the rest of the moor.

They were now inside a fortification of the sort that would take hundreds of men weeks to build. And Jack was part of every inch of it, as if it were his own flesh and bone.

Roderick had done it in a matter of minutes.

As the land settled, Roderick seemed to shrink in on himself, his trembling arms falling to his sides and his head sagging. “Your turn next,” he whispered.