In Which Tarpley Decides His Allegiance

Nicholas Rafe to Jem Tarpley:

My own Tarpley,

In the glow of our encounter last night I find myself torn for the first time between loyalty and love – and while it should be a shame to me that love won out, I can’t pretend to anything but exaltation. Like any spy, it is my business to seduce my jailers, male or female, for my freedom, or my comfort, or the information of my king and country – I have done it before, though I hope never to have to do it again. Last night would have been no exception -- having won your trust and the relaxation of your guard, I would have pressed both thumbs deep into the arteries of your neck until you lay senseless under my hands, and run all out for Bentlefay.

But that was when I still had both thumbs, and in any case, I could never harm you after the time we have shared. I never expected to say this or even think it, but thanks to you I have learned to bless my time in Marshweather. This exile, my captivity – even the loss of a limb was a small price to pay to discover you.

Looking back at your letters, I can reassure myself in hindsight that I need not have doubted your feelings for me, but that reassurance would have been impossible before last night. No first kiss can truly be a lie – not, at least, without the willing conspiracy of the deceived – and ours was like the lifting of a veil. You have always loved me; I have always loved you; when our lips met over that (truly superlative) cup of wine, it was the culmination of a saga set in the stone of fate.

Yours, ever,
Nicholas Rafe

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Jem Tarpley to Nicholas Rafe:

Nicholas,

I don’t know how reliable this information is, but I knew you would want to be informed. The surprise attack on Bentlefay is mustering now, and our men will be moving across the Hingbach border for the next several days to make through the mountains and come on Bentlefay from the west. I know our forces will be augmented by mercenary troops, and I don’t know what Bentlefay’s defenses are going to be like.

I am a man of Marshweather’s army, and I ought naturally to applaud any advantage we can take over our enemy. But something in me sticks at the use of mercenary troops; and I can’t reconcile a war for lowered port taxes with my own views on the matter of honor; and in any case, your presence in my life prevents me from viewing any interaction with Bentlefay in a purely objective light.

Your cell door will be unlocked tomorrow evening when I have left from collecting your supper tray. One of the king’s own horses, fed and rested, will be loosely tethered on the far side of the courtyard, with a skin of water, a nosebag of oats and a packet of bread and cheese on the back of the saddle. If you rode directly into the high street of the capital, the way to the border entry would be by the leftmost gate. The road goes straight and wide to Bentlefay, although the way grows more difficult by the foothills – while there has been traffic to and fro since the border skirmishes, it has not been official. I have no doubt that you will be able to obtain changes of horse on your way to the capital, once you are in your own country.

What you choose to do with this information is your own affair; I would not wish to influence you with soft words. However, I could arrange for another horse to be tethered there as well, and subject to your opinion on the matter, it may be worth while for two of us to go. I can undertake to keep you safe on the road, since your health is still considerably broken by your experience – and I will never betray you.

Yours,
Jem Tarpley

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Nicholas Rafe to Jem Tarpley:

My dear Tarpley,

Of course it is true that with any news of the attack on Bentlefay I would be unable to remain comfortably in my cell and wait for you, even with the bait of your own presence and the small luxuries you have been able to provide me. With the added incentive of your own willingness to accompany me, I have no reason to stay, regardless of the hospitality with which I have been lavished.

Which is to say: naturally I must go, and naturally you must come too. I find I cannot leave here without you – physically, I cannot. Your presence here in Marshweather would always bring me swinging back from wherever I tried to flee, just as a lodestone draws a piece of iron flung before it.

I will wait half an hour after you remove the supper tray, if you cared to meet me just after the first turn of the passage. I can’t pretend to understand the layout of this accursed prison, and will need guidance to the courtyard, the existence of which you assure me.

Yours utterly,
Nicholas Rafe

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