Cearan passed around bowls of a savory stew while Vashti helped Lexin sit up, propping him upright against his saddle. He gave a small grunt as pain radiated through his chest.
He waved Vashti to sit as he took a bowl from Cearan. “I am fine, Vashti. My belly pains me more just now.”
Knowing hunger as a good sign, Vashti sat next to him, accepting her own bowl.
Lexin surreptitiously studied Riordan as everyone ate silently. Thoughts jumbled together in his head as he realized that Riordan bore a striking resemblance to Cearan who sat next to him.
Lexin’s hand paused as he ate and then a slight noise had him looking over at Vashti. She nodded almost unperceptively.
“Say nothing,” her voice whispered in his mind. “It is not that simple, but yet it is.”
Lexin choked and coughed. Riordan and Cearan both jumped to their feet and came around to help him.
Tears welled in Lexin’s eyes as he fought for air, pain blooming in his chest. Finally, he pushed at their hands as the two men supported him.
Appetite now gone, he handed his bowl to Cearan. “I am fine now,” he whispered.
Once they had reseated themselves, Lexin looked at Vashti. The questions he wished to ask her stayed silent behind his lips. “When can we leave?” he asked instead. The desire to be reunited with Cerise overwhelmed him.
The time of truths was nearly upon him and he wanted her presence for it. After all was revealed, even her support might be lost. Lexin suddenly felt the desire to be done with it all. Let my fate be decided, he thought.
Vashti gave him a smile. “I think you need a day to regain more strength, my lord. You have suffered a grievous wound. Zara’s magic is great, but you need more time to heal.”
One day turned into two and then three as Lexin’s fever returned. It broke the evening of the third day, but it was not until the morning of the fifth day Vashti announced Lexin fit to travel, and then only by litter.
Having used the time Lexin needed to recover, the others had taken stock of what Riordan had recovered from the Wilder elves’ ruined camp. Riordan had found the remains of the packhorses, their throats slit, and the supplies in the packs destroyed or taken. He had located weapons and mail, along with most of the tack for their horses. The remaining silver Lexin and Cearan had carried was gone, either carried off by fleeing elves when the dragon, Zara, had appeared or scattered somewhere in the forest.
While Lexin lay resting under the watchful and stern eye of Vashti, he worried. Without the remaining silver, they would be unable to return to Kismera. The loss of the silver was but one of several things he worried over, making him quiet and thoughtful. As much as he longed to see Cerise again, he dreaded reaching Riordan’s village. The time had come and there was no more waiting.
“Yetta,” Cerise said over her shoulder to the healer.
The older woman turned at her name. With the few words Cerise had learned and some pantomime motions, Cerise let her know she was going outside to take a walk.
Except for the splint and bandage on her arm, all her other wounds had healed. Now she felt restless and worried over the length of time Riordan had been gone.
He left to look for Lexin and the others over two weeks ago and there had been no word. No one else in the village seemed overly concerned at Riordan’s absence. Even Deverell did not appear worried, commenting that Riordan was often gone for long periods of time.
Yetta nodded that she understood and Cerise went outside. No one in the village paid much attention to her as she walked aimlessly about.
After an hour of walking, Cerise found herself at the edge of the village on the path that led in the direction of Burning Wood. She paused, unsure if she should continue that course or head back to Riordan’s house. With a glance upward to check the sun’s position, she decided she had some time before dusk.
She hadn’t gone far when she heard the sound of travelers approaching the village. Cerise froze, hope welling within her at the same time fear sent a shiver down her spine. She stepped off the path, ready to drop to the forest floor to hide if it turned out to be someone besides Riordan.
Cerise stepped further behind a tree as voices reached her. The fear left her as she recognized Riordan’s deep voice.
She stepped out from behind the tree and waited. She didn’t have to wait long for Riordan to appear on the forest path, riding a big, bay stallion she recognized as Marlhowh.
Cerise moved into view and Riordan halted the stallion in front of her. “My lady, I have brought you visitors,” he said and quickly dismounted.
She peered around Riordan and the horse and noticed the others. She scanned faces rapidly and saw that Lexin was not among the mounted riders. A wounded moan escaped her.
“Cerise, come,” Riordan instructed, taking her arm and leading her past Cearan and Merrick. Lexin lay on a travois litter pulled by Riordan’s horse, led by Vashti.
“Oh god,” she whispered and knelt beside the litter. “Lexin.”
Lexin reached up and touched Cerise’s cheek, which was wet with tears. “I thought you lost to me, ehmar.”
“I thought the same thing about you, Lexin. About all of you.” She looked up at the others, taking note of the new scar on Cearan’s face and Merrick’s bandaged hand. “What happened? How badly are you hurt?” she asked, her attention once more on Lexin.
“It is a long story, my love, and though it pains me to admit it, I think I must wait in the telling. I still have little strength,” Lexin told her gently, one hand moving to bury itself in her long hair.
For someone who claimed weakness, his pull was strong as he brought her head down for a gentle kiss. “I love you, ehmar. I was lost when I thought you gone.”
As he released her, there was a low rumble of thunder.
Riordan helped Cerise to rise. “Come, lady. I think we should all hurry to the village before it rains.”
Lexin nodded at him in agreement. “We will talk more Cerise, once everyone is settled.”
She nodded back at him and walked in silence beside the litter as the group continued into the village and on to Riordan’s small house.
They were met by Yetta and Deverell. Deverell quickly took charge of the horses, calling for Riordan to help him.
Yetta was fearful of Vashti at first, knowing her to be a powerful sorceress, but she soon recognized her as a fellow healer. Quickly the two women had the injured men ensconced in Riordan’s house with Cerise’s help.
Vashti explained Lexin’s wounds to Cerise, translating for Yetta as she did.
Cerise sat on the low stool by Lexin, taking his hand. Cearan came to stand behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder in support.
“My brother has more lives than a cat, Cerise,” he said with a squeeze of his hand. “As do you, it would seem.”
Cerise looked over her shoulder and gave a watery smile. “Yes, we are lucky.” She looked back at Lexin who returned her gaze tiredly.
“I am not much of a warrior at the moment, my lady,” he said. “All I am good for is to sleep.”
Cerise brushed tangled hair from his face and then cupped his bearded cheek. “Well then, you should sleep,” she replied. “Everything else can wait until you’re rested. I have a lot to tell you, but it will keep.”
“And I you, ehmar,” Lexin said with a sigh, feeling the sleep he spoke of creeping over him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“...and then I brought them here, Da.” Riordan said as he finished relating the tale of the Werren men’s rescue. “I do not understand why you are angry. Once Cerise’s mate is well they can return to their homeland.”
Thunder growled overhead and the first rain of the storm began to hit the thatched roof of the stable with muffled splats, building to a steady cadence.
Deverell stopped forking hay to the hungry horses and looked at his son, using the pitchfork as a prop, his knees gone suddenly weak.
Riordan h
alted the brushing of Lexin’s stallion at his father’s stricken look. “Da! What is it? Are you ill?” he asked, coming around the horse to take his father’s elbow.
Deverell shook Riordan’s hand off. “I am fine son,” he said, strain in his voice. “I do not think those men will be leaving anytime soon. They came looking for something and now they have found it.”
Riordan took a step back and looked at Deverell with concern. Is my da going daft? he wondered. “You are speaking in riddles, old man.”
Deverell took a deep breath and let it out in a huge sigh. He had made his decision days ago, with Yetta in agreement.
“Da?” Riordan asked again, his voice sharper.
Deverell moved to the stable’s open door, followed by Riordan. Both stared out into the rain. “Son, those men have come looking for you,” he said simply.
“Me?” Riordan’s gaze shot to his father. “Why would they be looking for me?”
Deverell cleared his throat nervously. “They would have you return with them, to Kismera.”
“Kismera?” Riordan repeated as he turned to face his sire fully. “I do not understand.”
“Kismera is the land of the Clan Lionblade as you know. Lexin was sent by the High King himself to find Yeager Lionblade’s lost son.” Deverell looked down at his boots and then back into Riordan’s confused eyes. “He came looking for you.”
Vashti stood in the doorway of the small house and watched the exchange between Deverell and Riordan. Behind her, Yetta served a simple stew to the Werren men and Cerise carried bread to the table. Lexin slept in a heavy, healing sleep.
“Cerise,” Vashti said quietly over her shoulder, drawing the other woman to the doorway.
Both women watched as Riordan spoke with obvious anger to Deverell, making a slashing movement of his hand as if signaling him to halt.
Riordan stepped from the stable and looked toward his house, seeing Cerise and Vashti in the doorway. His lips pulled back in a snarl of contempt as the rain pelted him and he turned and headed back into the forest.
Vashti looked up at Cerise. “It has begun,” she said simply. She turned from the doorway and went to the table to eat.
Cerise stood watching Deverell for some time as he leaned against the door frame of the stable and wept.
Lexin sat on the edge of the bed. He still felt a bit weak, but after three days of lying in a soft bed in the care of his mate and the sorceress Vashti, he was much improved.
Cearan and Merrick were outside with Deverell and his students. Vashti was in the forest with Yetta collecting herbs and Cerise was cleaning in the small house.
Lexin was sure her activities were more to put herself in a watchful position to keep him still. He was going to disappoint her as he stood slowly to test his strength.
Cerise was bent over a small chest, putting blankets away. The material of her breeches stretched enticingly over her rump.
Lexin smiled to himself as his body reacted strongly. He was most definitely feeling better. When his heart rate jumped and he felt no twinge in his chest, he knew he was almost recovered.
Cerise felt his eyes on her and she stood, noting the smug smile on Lexin’s lips and the heat in his eyes. The fact that he wore only thin linen drawers left him unable to hide his body’s reaction.
“I don’t think so, buster,” she said, but let him take her in his arms anyway. She turned her head to the side when he bent to kiss her and tucked her face against his shoulder.
She sighed and tears burned the back of her throat. “Lexin, I have to tell you something.”
Lexin felt a tickle of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He held her a bit tighter. “Tell me, little one,” he said with more confidence then he felt.
Cerise sniffed against his bare skin. “Our baby is gone,” she whispered and felt him stiffen.
He tilted his head to lay it on hers. “Cerise, ehmar, are you sure?”
She nodded and sniffed again. “Yetta said it’s true and I started my period…my flux time, a few days ago. I’m so sorry.”
Lexin fought the emotional pain that ripped at him and tightened his hold on her. “Do not apologize for something you had no control over.” He pulled back to study her face. “I am sorry I was not here for you. I was so sure you were lost to the river. You are well now?”
Cerise nodded once. “Yes, but it’s been hard. I wanted this baby so badly.”
Lexin pulled her close once more. “With Tala’s blessing, maybe I will give you another babe.”
“How touching,” came a voice filled with acid contempt from the doorway.
Lexin pushed Cerise behind himself. “Riordan,” he said flatly.
Riordan pushed through the door and sat heavily in one of the chairs. He looked very rough. There were leaves and twigs in his tangled hair. His beard was thicker and he was filthy.
Lexin casually reached for his breeches that lay over the back of another chair, but by the tension in his posture, Cerise knew he was anything but relaxed. She sensed a serious threat of bloodshed.
Cerise came from behind Lexin to stand between the two men. A protest formed on both men’s lips, but she halted them with both hands raised, palms out. “Stop it,” she commanded. “Now.”
“Get dressed, Lexin,” she said in a softer tone, lowering her arms and facing Riordan. “And you need to get cleaned up. I’ll heat some water for you and fix you something to eat.”
Cearan and Merrick came into the house as Lexin pulled a shirt over his head. Noises behind the screen gave testament to Riordan’s presence.
“Both of you sit,” Cerise ordered and was quickly obeyed.
Dressed now, Lexin joined them at the table. Vashti entered then and soon Deverell and Yetta joined them as well.
Cerise set a plate in front of Riordan who had arrived at the table freshly washed and shaved.
“Lexin,” she began, her voice full of meaning. “I think…”
Lexin interrupted her. “I know, ehmar, I know,” he said as he stood, offering his seat to Vashti as the older couple had already taken seats on the side of the bed.
Lexin directed his gaze at Riordan. “You know now why we are here in your lands, that I was sent on a quest to find the lost son of the High King. I truly thought Yeager was insane. How was I going to find someone who did not exist, a ghost? But the truth has come out and it is time for all to hear it.”
Cerise made a noise of concern and Lexin halted her with a raised hand. “Let me speak woman. You may not feel as you do toward me when I am finished. There is more that none of you know.”
He lowered his hand and looked at each person in the room. “I will tell you all that I know and then I will let you judge me.”
Lexin looked over at Cearan and Cerise. “Part of this story you now know,” he said. “But it all relates to the rest.
“Cearan’s mother, Fagraz, died in childbirth. His father, Hremm, was crazy with grief. Fagraz’s sister was at Oralia when she died. Muril, my mother, was her sister. Muril took advantage of Hremm’s aguish and seduced him, where she conceived. I am the result of that deception.
“But the deception goes deeper. Muril’s deception goes deeper.” Lexin began to pace in the small room, only getting a few steps before he had to turn. He limped on his bad leg as he turned.
“After Muril realized her seduction was fruitful, which was her intent all along, she returned to Bellmore and made herself available to Seaha as companion. Seaha was also pregnant and at the end of her term.”
“I do not understand where this is going,” Riordan interrupted, looking more threatening than confused.
Cerise laid a hand on his arm and he settled.
“Everyone at Bellmore and at Oralia knows my mother was very proud of her connection to both houses, Lionblade and Gwendh. One house is the most powerful and the other house of great importance and high standing. Muril saw the opportunity to further advance herself by means of murde
r and deception.”
There were several gasps at the mention of murder. Deverell had been quietly translating as Lexin talked, but he ducked his head at the last.
“Muril gave Seaha a tea when she went into labor. In this tea she slipped an herb that women use to prevent pregnancy. If a woman is already pregnant, especially if she is far along, it can cause the woman to bleed. Muril gave Seaha a large amount of this herb as she labored.”
Lexin stopped pacing and looked at the shocked group. “My mother murdered Seaha, and made the arrangements for Seaha’s child, if it lived, to be taken out of Kismera and hidden. She is the one who told the king and everyone else the baby was dead.” Lexin looked at Deverell. “Muril wasn’t the only one who knew of her use of the herb.”
Lexin resumed his three strides pace. “The midwife figured it out later that evening. Muril murdered her before the woman could tell anyone else of the deception. I am not clear how Muril disposed of the woman’s body, only that she did.”
Now Lexin’s attention returned to Deverell. “Muril ordered two warriors to accompany her maidservant to a place called Burning Wood, a place no one would ever to think to look for a stolen child. She told them some story of a threat to the babe, to take him to safety—that someone would come for them when it was safe. But no one did, because the only threat to the babe was the one who sent the babe away in the first place.”
Lexin stopped in front of Deverell. “By the time you figured out the truth, you were emotionally involved. You would have protected the child with your life, as your own child.”
Tears slid silently down the older man’s cheeks. He nodded, too ashamed to speak.
Lexin turned next to Riordan. “A great wrong has been done to you. And there is more. Muril did not murder you as a babe for reasons only she knew. After you were safely away, she plotted to commit further murder against Ki and you as well, Cearan. She planned to eliminate all that stood in the way of her own child, the one she carried, one of the royal lines.”
Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2) Page 17