by Chandra Ryan
He sprinkled the herbs on his palm and then placed his hand over the wound. “This is going to take some extensive channeling. You might feel a tingle.”
Unable to support herself any longer, she leaned back into his strength. “Let’s just get it done already.”
“Shhh. This may look easy but it does take some concentration.”
She smiled at his teasing rebuke.
True to his word, Sara felt a warm tingling hum envelop her, easing her pain and much of her weariness. Sighing, she went limp with relief. But he held her tightly against his chest, preventing her from sliding down to the blanket. Her eyes still closed, the rainbow colored sparks of pain were fading, being replaced by a shower of shimmering golden dust.
Floating within herself, Sara could feel her body healing, the tear that sliced through her muscle closing. It seemed so effortless, but Kavin’s energy was fading quickly. Each passing second cost him dearly. She could feel it through their link. He persisted, though, working on nothing more than sheer determination until he had sealed the last bit of her skin.
Only then did he let the exhaustion overtake him. Falling to the blanket, his head landed next to her knee. She expected the sudden loss of his energy to leave her cold, but it didn’t. It was as if he was still with her even though he was no longer touching her. And it was a very pleasant experience.
Lying down next to him, she threw the blanket over both of them then closed her eyes to rest. The next thing she was aware of was the swishing sound of the canvas flap and Kemah standing over them.
“Entering a superior’s quarters without invitation is grounds for demotion, Kemah.” Kavin’s voice was cold, but since Kemah had been the one guarding her tent she wasn’t feeling exactly warm toward him either. “But then again, so is falling asleep at your post.”
“I only wanted to bring Sara her daggers.”
“Give them to me.” He took them from the man before lying down again. “Go and see to breakfast.”
“Yes, sir.”
She waited for the soft swoosh of the flap before rolling into Kavin’s warmth.
“You’re arm is healed, but it’s going to take time to replace the blood you lost.”
“Thank you.” She shivered as he moved away from her. Reaching out, she found only empty blanket.
“We need to get the dried blood off of you.” Pottery clinked against metal as he filled a bowl with water from a jug. She could imagine what she looked like, but she didn’t want to get cleaned up. She wanted to sleep.
“Tired.” She pulled the blanket around her tighter.
“I know, but you’ll feel much better after you’re clean.” He gently started to clean the dried blood off her face with a soft washcloth. “Close your eyes. I’m going to have to pour some water through your hair.”
She propped herself up on her elbows so he could put the bowl under her head and, despite bracing herself for it, gasped at the water’s chill as it spilled over the top of her head. But the cold was forgotten as he worked mint-scented soap through her hair. By the time he had rinsed it clean she didn’t mind the water temperature at all.
“Now your arm.” She produced the requested arm without complaint and he carefully cleaned the blood away—taking extra care around the area that had been wounded even though it was completely healed. She was good as new. Her clean skin, however, only brought more attention to the ruined blanket wrapped around her.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiled softly as he looked from the blanket to her. “It’s only a blanket, Sara. I’ve got another.” Leaving her briefly, he returned carrying a clean blanket. Without thought, she unwrapped the stained one and handed it to him, leaving her half-naked once more in the cold tent. Kavin quickly looked away from her as he took the stained blanket and handed her the clean one.
He was acting odd. Then again, she wasn’t exactly an authority on how he acted normally. Maybe he had been acting oddly up to this point and their talk last night had set everything back to straight?
“Thank you.” She wrapped the new blanket around herself, grateful for its warmth and its gentle scent of sandalwood and fresh earth.
“You’re welcome.” Turning away from her, he started to walk to the door.
“How soon do we leave?” She didn’t know where he found his energy. She was still half dead despite the revitalizing bath.
“We’re going to start breaking camp, but this will be the last tent taken down. Get as much rest as you need. When you’re ready, there’s an extra riding uniform in my bag.”
She looked up in disbelief. “We’re riding today?”
“It’s not safe to stay here. Don’t worry, though, we’ll take it easy. And I’ll be making sure we stop every couple of hours to restore your energy. You’ll be fine.” He was silent for a moment as he stared at her. “Rest now.”
The canvas door made a soft wisp of a noise as he left. Taking his advice, she snuggled deeper into the blanket and sank into an exhausted sleep. She wanted nothing more than to escape the events of the morning, but her dreams wouldn’t let her. Hauntingly pale eyes floated though her mind as daggers brought a shower of blood.
She bolted up as she fought against the wave of panic that threatened to drown her. But her attacker was nowhere to be seen. She shared the tent with Kavin’s satchel and his horse’s tack, but that was all. After she pushed the covers away from her, she took large gulps of air and willed her body to stop trembling.
Scenes of the attack still flashed through her head, though. The assassin’s eyes locked with hers once more. Pain. She remembered the pain that exploded in her abdomen from still being in her assailant’s mind. Her stomach twisted with the phantom agony, forcing her to shake her head out of desperation to stop reliving the event. That was when the knife had torn through her. She turned to look at the spot on her arm, but she saw only the pink scar that raced across her skin.
It was healed. Kavin had done a good job. But still, she felt an echo of the pain. Reaching out with shaking fingers, she lightly traced the scar. There had been blood—blood everywhere. She grabbed a metal bowl and then studied her reflection, looking for some stain, some trace of the life she’d taken, but there was none.
Outside a horse whinnied and the sound broke the hold of the memory. She tossed the bowl to the side and took a deep, steadying breath. She had to pull it together. She didn’t have time for a breakdown. There was never time for the luxury a breakdown—she always had to move on.
The uniform was exactly where Kavin said it would be. But, sliding his tunic over her head, she was dismayed to find it two full sizes too big. She had to roll the sleeves three times to have any hope of being able to hold on to her horse’s reins. Fortunately, her breeches weren’t ruined in the attack so she didn’t have to try to make his fit. Still, she was certain she looked like a five-year-old playing dress up. But it was all she had and she would make do. At least until they got to Keep Smy.
There was only one garment left in the bottom of the box, a thick riding cloak with a deep hood. It was a welcomed sight. Still cold, she slipped it over her shoulders and tied it securely around her neck before stepping out of the security of the tent into the dreary day.
Kavin was the first person to spot her. “You hungry?”
“Not really.” Her stomach was still tied in knots and her mouth as dry as if she’d been sucking on salt crystals.
“Eat anyway.” With a nod of his head he summoned Kemah, who now had the cold aura of detachment around him. “Go get her a bowl of gruel, and put honey in it.”
She noticed the absence of one of the spades that used to sit on Kemah’s lapel. There’d been two this morning, now there was one.
Once he left, Kavin’s attention swung back to her. “Sit.” The large rock he pointed to didn’t seem overly comfortable.
“I’m okay to stand.”
He shrugged, but still looked concerned. “How are you feeling?”
“A little shook up, but I think I’ll
live.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Kemah reappeared with her breakfast, but only stayed long enough to hand it to her before skulking away again. Pulling a spoonful of the thin gruel out of the bowl, she tried not to wrinkle her nose at it. It would be good to have something in her stomach, even if it was gruel.
She couldn’t quite convince herself of it though. She could pretend. Talk when she was supposed to and eat the warm cereal, but too much had happened for her to believe anything would make her feel better right now.
“How many people know about my gift?” She needed to know.
“Three. The king, the Oracle, and myself.”
She shook her head. “No, someone else knows. The king has need of my gift. Or, at least, he thinks he does. And you’d never hurt me.” The memory of him rejecting her flitted through her mind. “Not this way, at least.”
“That leaves the Oracle.”
“She barely knows I exist. Besides, she’s above politics.” She had only met the Oracle a handful of times in her life and the woman had been nothing but the picture of serenity.
“And you think this has something to do with politics?”
“Doesn’t everything?” She had lost so much to the game. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine it was behind the Royalsbane and the assassination attempt. Actually, it was harder for her to imagine political gain wasn’t a factor. “So who else could know?”
He stared off into the distance as if thinking about it.
“Could it be Devin? Would he be so upset that he had lost me that he’d hire assassins?” she asked.
“No. Devin is a user and an ass, but he doesn’t have it in him to kill anyone.” Kavin chuckled. “The king would have real worries if he did.”
“Then who else?”
“I don’t know, Sara. I wish I did. But it could be anyone. I shouldn’t even know what your gift is.”
“I already told you, I know it’s not you.”
“That’s not what I meant. If the king was willing to tell me as a matter of convenience, he could’ve told any number of others.”
Chapter Twelve
The rain continued over the next two days leaving everything and everyone soggy. And, staring at the muddy road in front of them, Sara could tell it was going to be another day of the same. But tonight would be different. Tonight they would be at Keep Smy and would be dry and in beds. She would have smiled if Kavin hadn’t chosen that moment to throw her a dark look from under the hood of his cloak.
“What?” She hadn’t meant to glare at him, but sharing his tent—and his dreams—hadn’t been easy. Not since her argument about tomorrows had failed to persuade him to ravish her.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. When confronted with the logic, he had told her he agreed with her about the promise of tomorrows. But still, he refused to touch her. She had tried to find out why, but he refused to talk about it. She could’ve read him, something she had threatened him with more than once. But she needed him to trust her with whatever was bothering him. She needed him to confide in her. And he refused. Eventually, she had stopped asking.
Just because they weren’t talking about it though didn’t mean they weren’t both feeling the strain. Her nerves were stretched to the point of snapping.
“Jar’s infection is getting worse.”
And that wasn’t helping the tension either. Jar would be fine as soon as they got him to the keep and in the hands of a druid, but every minute he spent in pain added to Kavin’s frustration. As much as he wanted to, Kavin couldn’t heal Jar. Not without revealing the magic, at least. And though he was doing everything he could with the limited herbs and salves they had brought along, letting his friend suffer was eating at Kavin’s conscience.
“We’re almost there. He’ll make it to the keep.”
He nodded solemnly, but still looked troubled. She wondered if he was thinking about the same thing she was. His dreams.
Just thinking about the previous night’s dream made her stomach cramp with desire. He had a very active imagination, she’d give him that. His lack of follow-up, however, was going to kill her.
“I’m sure sleeping in a bed will help too.” She wasn’t sure if she was still talking about Jar’s problems or hers, but it didn’t matter. Kavin didn’t seem inclined to comment. Apparently their conversation was over. Sighing, she pulled her focus to the road ahead of them and did her best to block everyone out.
They rode in silence most of the day, stopping briefly for a quick lunch and to change Jar’s dressings. But, despite their best efforts, it was still almost twilight when she finally saw Keep Smy’s familiar silhouette sitting on top of a tall mesa.
“There she is.” Jar’s weak voice held a trace of hope that helped to lighten her mood. “Arguably the safest keep in the kingdom.”
They weren’t close enough to see the city, which was made up of a maze of roads and buildings that’d been dug into the mesa’s walls. But Sara didn’t need to see them, she could easily picture them in her mind. With the strong alliance between the Ravens and the Smys, she had spent a great deal of time there as a child.
“How long are we going to stay?” Shemeek asked.
“Three nights at least,” Kavin answered.
The woman relaxed at the extended timeline. “Thank the gods.”
“Don’t worry, we aren’t leaving until Jar can ride safely.”
Jar snorted softly. “You act as if I’m about to keel over where I stand. It’s a flesh wound for mercy’s sake. I’ll be ready to ride out at first light.”
“You’ll be ready when I say you are.” Kavin’s voice held no room for argument, but that didn’t stop Jar from rolling his eyes and cursing softly under his breath.
Kavin shot the man a scowl, but no one seemed to care. Not with refuge so close at hand.
There was only one road into the walled city—a road that narrowed as they approached the gate so that any wishing entrance to the city had no choice but to ride single file. And, unlike the Livingston’s, their gate was unadorned solid metal and heavily guarded.
“Ho there,” one of the guards said, stepping into the road in front of them. “What business do you have at Smy City?”
“The king’s business,” Kavin answered, pulling back the hood of his cloak so they could see his face.
“Of course, Right Hunter, so good to see you again,” the guard said, gesturing to the others to open the gate. “It has been several seasons since you last graced us. I’ll send word to the barracks that you’re on your way. Should I tell the Lord and Lady to expect you at evening meal?”
“No, we’ll be dining in the barracks this evening,” Kavin answered.
“Very well. How long will you be staying?” the guard asked.
“Three nights at the least. One of my men has been injured. We won’t be leaving until he can safely ride again.” His voice had a ring of challenge in it that thankfully Jar ignored.
“Of course. I’ll send word to our druid. He’ll meet you at the barracks.” Stepping out of their way, the man saluted stiffly.
Kavin returned the salute before nudging his horse gently. “Thank you.”
Riding through the large gates, Sara shifted her focus to the people they passed. There was a collective calm and sense of purpose that permeated the city and soothed her frayed nerves.
Around her, women carried large jugs of water balanced precariously on top their heads because their hands were busy guiding children along the steep ridge. The men were busy seeing to the daily maintenance and security of the city. And, every once in a while, she would make out a shadow lurking in an alley or doorway. It was a living testament to Smy’s never ending thirst for intelligence.
The barracks were easy to find in the well-ordered city. Being one of the largest buildings and sitting at the center of the second tier, it would be impossible to miss. Riding up to the door of the very familiar building, Sara felt the call of her past as she remembered visiting Kavi
n here in her youth.
After dismounting, she handed her horse off to the waiting stableman and nodded her thanks. She was so close to a decent night’s sleep, she could almost feel it. And she wasn’t the only one in need of some time to relax. Despite his earlier taunt, Jar was leaning heavily on Shemeek as they walked up the stairs to the building.
Kavin opened the door for the couple, strain etched in every line of his face. “Will you be all right from here?”
“I will make sure he sees the druid and follows orders,” Shemeek answered. “You need not worry.”
“Just the same, find me after he’s been seen and let me know what’s going on.”
Shemeek didn’t look back as she guided Jar down the long corridor, but she did nod slightly. “Of course.”
Once they disappeared around a corner, Kavin turned to Kemah. “You know where to go, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Sara will be with me, but it would be best to keep that just between us five.”
That was a surprise to her.
“Is tavern allowed?” Kemah asked.
“Yes, but keep it light.”
“Like I have a choice,” Kemah remarked. “Smy doesn’t exactly hold with hard liquor.”
“Even so, tempers have been running hot in our group as of late. We don’t need the fuel of alcohol to light a fuse.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kavin didn’t even look back at Sara as he started down the corridor.
Following him, she allowed her fingertips to run over the polished stone walls as she contemplated the best way to address her current problem. “I thought we’d be on our own here.” Gods knew she could deal with a night of not sleeping next to the man who was driving her insane.
“Not with someone trying to kill you.”
Of course, he couldn’t let anything happen to her. But there had to be another way. “I understand. But the last couple nights have been…difficult.”
“Such is life.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“It’s my job.”
She reached out to touch his shoulder, but pulled back at the explosion of emotion it caused. “No. You’ve been different since the attack.”