Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2)

by Tamara H Hartl

  Lexin glanced at all in the room, his face showing the torture of the sins of his mother. “My mother was the one who sent the High King’s sorcerer to the King of the Sunnons. She supported the rise of the southern forces. I used to wonder why she objected so strongly to Oralia asking for Bellmore forces and my leading them, but it is all clear now. If I had been killed, it would have been all for naught. ”

  Lexin went to the doorway then turned to face those inside. “Riordan Canif, you are Greer Lionblade, the rightful heir to the High Kingdom. I denounce all rights to it, ever. I do not wish any claim to a leadership gained through blood and deception. I curse the blood of my dam which I carry.” He coughed as emotion strangled him and then he turned and limped from the house, disappearing into the gathering dark.

  All eyes turned to Riordan who sat in stunned silence, his mouth slightly open in shock.

  “Da?” he finally spoke. “You told me some of this the other day, that I was a stolen child of the King, but I did not believe you. So it is all true?”

  “Aye, at least what I know of my part in this,” Deverell admitted, hoarsely. “But know this as truth, I love you as if I sired you. Yetta does as well. Nothing you decide will ever change that.”

  Riordan stood on wobbly legs and swallowed hard. He nodded once and then left the house as well, leaving behind a silent group.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Riordan nearly fell over Lexin as he walked sightlessly into the forest surrounding the village. Lexin knelt, gasping for air and holding a hand over the healing wound in his chest.

  Riordan knelt next to him and sat silent while Lexin gathered himself. The two men sat in each other’s presence for quite some time without speaking.

  “When did you learn all of this?” Riordan asked softly, finally breaking the silence.

  Lexin told him of his questioning of Muril and then her deathbed confessions.

  “So, you have just found out this entire story. You did not grow to manhood with this knowledge?” Riordan asked after settling onto his butt and picking up a small twig and snapping it, giving the pieces a toss.

  “That is the truth. Only after Yeager asked me to search for you did I learn all of it. If my mother had not become ill, I fear she would have tried to conceal her deception and most likely could have succeeded.”

  “Hmmm,” Riordan replied.

  There was another long silence. Riordan stretched out one leg and hooked his arms around the knee of the other one.

  “That is a lot for a man to carry in his heart.” He paused for a moment. “I was taught to respect women and Yetta has always been a mother to me. I do not know how I would feel if I found out deceptions such as Muril’s were hers,” Riordan said, and shook his head to stop any protest or comment from Lexin. “I think you were as much a pawn as I.”

  “Why do you defend me?” Lexin asked in disbelief.

  “Perhaps to help myself understand.” Riordan sighed deeply. “You were a babe not yet born. I was a newborn. We had no power at all to stop others’ decisions. Am I hurt? Am I angry? More than I can say. My head feels as if it might split.”

  Riordan twisted slightly to look fully at Lexin. “I need time to think.”

  Lexin nodded in reply, amazed at Riordan’s words.

  “Well, cousin,” Riordan said as he stood, dusting the seat of his breeches, and then extending a hand. “Let us get you back to the care of your woman.”

  “What are you going to do?” Lexin asked as Riordan pulled him to his feet.

  “Yetta has put up a very nice wine. I think I might find Deverell and drink with him until I cannot find my feet. After that, I do not know.”

  Lexin chuckled. “Better your head than mine.”

  A subdued group was sitting around the table when Lexin returned to the small house. Cerise rose and went to him, putting her arms around him and holding him close. Lexin studied the rest of the group over her head.

  Cearan returned his gaze steadily. “I have one question, Lexin,” he said, leaning back in his chair in a deceptively causal sprawl. He tapped his fingers idly on the table.

  Lexin sat in Cerise’s vacated chair and she stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

  “I knew you as cousin long before I knew you as my brother. We have been the best of friends all that time. You have a woman who loves you. Any man would be proud to have her, even though she is a bit sharp-mouthed.” He threw Cerise a lopsided grin but then continued on in a serious tone, “Why could you not share this with us? With me?”

  Cearan sat up straight in his chair. “Why, my brother? We love you. You are an innocent victim of circumstance as is Riordan. I would have helped you bear this burden.”

  Lexin’s gaze dropped to the table top. “When my mother lay on her deathbed and confessed all of this to me, I felt anger like none I had ever felt before. For a brief moment I contemplated my hands around her neck. I truly wished to kill her. Then I came back to reality and my anger turned to shame. I could not believe my own blood could be so evil. As I rode to Oralia, I began to wonder if that evil would show up in me.”

  Lexin reached up with one hand and placed it over Cerise’s. “I feared to care for those to whom I was close. I tried to drive them away so that I would not.”

  He squeezed Cerise’s hand. “I am grateful for your stubbornness.” He looked over at Cearan. “Yours as well.”

  Vashti spoke for the first time. “How do you feel now, my lord?”

  Lexin pulled Cerise around and into his lap. “Tired, drained, perhaps relieved that it is finally out. I am unsure what to do next.”

  Vashti touched Cearan lightly on the shoulder as she passed him on her way to the door. “What you will do next is to rest. That is what you need most. That and the comfort of your mate.” She bestowed him with a warm smile. “The rest will fall into place as it may.”

  Cearan rose and followed her, gathering up their bedding from the floor. They would join Merrick in the stable and take their rest in the loft.

  Once they were alone, Lexin buried his face in Cerise’s neck and felt her arms tighten around him. Silently, the tears began to fall, a gentle purge of festered emotions.

  After some time, Lexin straightened and hugged Cerise hard once and then set her to her feet. He rose with a little effort, went to the wash basin and splashed the tepid water on his face.

  He dried with a piece of linen and then turned to face Cerise. He braced himself with a hand on the back of a chair. “I do not think I have ever felt this weary. Not even after battle.”

  Cerise came to him and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms to aid her as she pulled it over his head. “I think then you need to get some sleep, love,” she said.

  She helped him with his boots and breeches and pulled him to the bed. She ran a finger over the puckered scar over his heart. “This has been the worst vacation I have ever had. I hope you can get a refund.”

  Lexin, puzzled by the meaning of her words, stared down at her as if she had lost her mind, then he realized she was attempting humor. Although he did not fully understand, he began to laugh. When Cerise joined in, he laughed harder.

  He sat on the bed with a bounce when his knees gave out. He laughed even harder until fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. Those proved to be almost as healing as the first.

  Lexin grabbed Cerise and pulled her down next to him. “By Arahtok’s mane, woman, I adore you.”

  “And I you, Lexin. Now go to sleep. We’ll figure out what comes next tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow sounds good,” he replied and was soon snoring softly.

  Lexin sat on the bench outside Riordan’s house, watching Cearan and Merrick work with Deverell and his students. Cerise was in the house with Yetta and Vashti, going through her things that survived the wave and the elves. He was alone to enjoy the morning sun. Or so he thought.

  A shadow fell over Lexin and he looked up as Riordan stopped by him. He qui
ckly hid a grin at Riordan’s pained expression and scooted over to make room for him to sit.

  Riordan leaned forward and, with his elbows on his knees, placed his head in his hands.

  Lexin cleared his throat. “Um, I take it the wine was especially nice?”

  There was a muffled response, which Lexin did not quite understand. “Pardon me?”

  Riordan leaned back and pushed back his curtain of loose and uncombed hair. “I said,” he coughed delicately and put one hand to his temple. “It was very nice.”

  “From the looks of you, I would hesitate to agree.” Lexin looked down at his lap and then back to the fighting lessons.

  “I have been thinking on your words from yesterday,” Riordan said, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back still more so that he was propped against the side of the house. “It is a strange thing that you and your people would come here at this time, a time when I have been thinking of leaving,” he said in an off-hand manner.

  Lexin’s gaze returned to Riordan’s face. “What do you mean?”

  Now Riordan watched the other Werren men sparring. “It is hard to explain. In the last few turnings of the moon, I have felt this restlessness, almost a sense of not belonging. In my search for Fen and his men, I would be in the forest and have this desire for openness. I would wake from a sound sleep, having dreamed of grasslands and wind. Is that not strange?”

  Riordan turned to Lexin and there was a pained look in his eyes that had nothing to do with a hangover. “Perhaps it was your search for me that I felt. Blood calling to blood?” He shook his head. “I do not know, but there has been something moving in me.”

  He gestured outward with a hand. “I knew not where I should go or to whom I should go, but the pull has been strong. And yet I have been torn. Deverell is the father I have always known. Yetta is my foster mother. I love them. Even now, knowing the truth of my parentage, I find it hard to just walk away from them. They are my family. On the other hand, they have each other and when they are no longer with me, I will remain the only one of my kind here.”

  Lexin sighed and leaned back against the wall as well. “The gods work in ways that men were not meant to understand I think. I do not know what to tell you.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Riordan. “I will not make you choose what life to wish for. Perhaps what the gods direct is neither here nor at Bellmore. If you choose to stay, I will take whatever message, if any, back to King Yeager. If you choose to go, I will lead you there. And if you choose to go where the wind takes you, then I will pray you go there safely.”

  Lexin sat up and placed his hands over his knees. “I have realized one problem, though, in the last few days.”

  “And what is that?”

  “All the silver that I had has not been recovered. The return will be difficult without coin,” Lexin informed him rather uncomfortably.

  A flush spread up Riordan’s neck and for a split second he looked guilty. Quickly hiding it, he looked at Lexin. “About that,” he said and stood. “I, um, found your silver when I found your horses. I did not know what kind of men I was dealing with so I kept that information to myself and let you think it was lost by the Wilders. I had thought to trade it for your woman.”

  Lexin stood as well and faced Riordan, his lips back to show his canines. A low growl escaped him. “My woman is mine. She is not a mare to trade for a few pieces of silver.”

  Riordan placed a hand on Lexin’s arm. “Hold, man, I meant no insult. It was a jest. But perhaps you would trade for your stallion? He is a magnificent animal.”

  Lexin was so taken aback that he began to laugh. “You would rather have that bad tempered stallion over Cerise?”

  “I do not think I said that exactly,” Riordan corrected. “I just know that I have a better chance at the horse.” He grinned wickedly.

  “What magic do you have over Marlhowh? He is never placid, but with you, I cannot explain it.” Lexin looked thoughtful for a moment. “For Marlhowh, I think the return of my silver and your gelding. I must have a mount. I have another stallion at Oralia, but he is only a yearling. He was a gift from the Dark Lord MacKinnon. No finer horses exist than his.”

  Riordan clasped Lexin’s arm below the elbow and Lexin returned the gesture. “Done,” Riordan agreed. After they dropped their hands, Riordan grinned. “I was going to return the silver to you, you know.”

  “Aye, I knew it. But now I will not have to put up with Marlhowh. He is a grand war horse though. I wish you the best with him.”

  Riordan left and returned quickly with a leather pouch. He handed Lexin the bag.

  Lexin bounced the bag in his hand once. “There is more here than before.”

  “You have Fen to thank for that. He and his bunch no longer have any need of it. It is going to a much better cause.”

  Riordan gestured for Lexin to sit once more and then joined him on the bench. “I have made a decision on what I will do,” he said.

  “And what is that?” Lexin prompted, leaning back once more.

  “I would have you take me to the man who is my true father. I want to meet this king and see his lands. I want to meet the Lady Ki and her mate, the Lord MacKinnon. I do not have to stay if it pleases me to leave,” he said, and looked through a curtain of hair at his new cousin, a slightly challenging look upon his face.

  “I cannot speak for Yeager, but I think if he sees you and knows that you are well, he will accept any decision you make. His mind has not been truly sound since you were taken and after the death of his second mate, even more so. He had an accident several months ago and sometimes he is not the most lucid,” Lexin hedged, not wanting to reveal just how much Yeager was confused.

  Riordan nodded once and then stood. “I think a swim in the river is what I need just now. Make your plans and I will ride with you when you leave here. I think you have need of a better guide than your last anyway.”

  “True,” Lexin replied. “Very true.”

  After Riordan was out of sight, Cerise came outside and sat beside Lexin.

  “I see you two have had a conversation with no bloodshed,” she commented idly.

  Lexin filled her in on Riordan’s decision. “We can head home in a few days,” he said. He glanced briefly at the sky. “If we leave soon we should have easy passage across the sea before the storms of winter come.”

  He squeezed Cerise’s knee briefly. “I find that I am looking forward to some alone time with my beautiful woman.”

  Cerise stood and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Would you like some alone time with her right now?”

  Heat seemed to course through her hand into his and continued down his body. He swallowed hard. “You have this secluded spot already picked out?”

  Cerise gave him a wanton smile. “I was searching for more than plants the other day. I have something in mind if you are up for a bit of a walk.”

  He returned her smile. “I think I am up for more than just a walk, although you may have to do a bit more of the work.”

  “Oh I think I can handle that. Let’s go, cat man,” she teased and together they headed into the trees.

  After a few moments of walking, Cerise pushed through a heavy screen of willow revealing a secluded, sun-dappled shelter.

  Lexin made a low noise in his throat and squeezed her hand in approval. He let her lead him into the center of the tiny glen where the branches fell back into place, sealing the hideaway. Cerise turned toward him but he stilled her before she spoke. “Don’t speak,” he whispered hoarsely. “Not yet.” The noise of the forest surrounding them was full of birdsong and the whisper of the wind through the trees.

  He brushed her hair back over her shoulder with one hand while he touched her cheek with the other.

  Cerise nodded at his request, rubbing her cheek against his palm.

  “I thought you lost,” he continued, a gravelly sound to his voice. “And I felt a pain g
reater than any wound I have ever received.”

  He took one of her hands and placed it over the fresh scar on his chest. “I wanted to die,” he whispered. “Ehmar,” he sighed. “My love.”

  Lexin stepped back a moment later and worked the laces at the top of her shirt and then gently pulled it over her head, Cerise’s red-gold hair spilled back over her bare shoulders.

  Cerise laid a hand on his arm while she slipped off the soft leather shoes she wore. Her breeches followed.

  Lexin sucked in his breath, drinking in the sight of her.

  His clothing joined hers and they lay down on soft moss and fresh grass. Each touched the other as if to memorize every inch of skin. Each whispered soft words of love and encouragement.

  Rolling onto his back, Lexin pulled Cerise astride him. She smiled down at him before she began to move.

  There was a tightness in his chest but Lexin felt no pain, only the pleasure Cerise was building in him. His eyes fluttered close as they took each other higher.

  “I love you,” Cerise sobbed as she peaked, bringing Lexin along with her. She collapsed on his chest, one hand resting on the puckered scar.

  Lexin held her tightly as her tears of joy and relief dampened his skin.

  “Shush, love, all is well now,” he gentled and settled her against his side. “All is well.”

  There were many tears from the Wilder people when Riordan and his companions left four days later. Most were from Yetta and Deverell.

  After many hugs and a promise from Riordan to send word of his safe arrival to Oralia and then Bellmore, they were on their way.

  Cerise worried that Lexin was not as strong and healed as he claimed to be, but with Vashti in their group she tried not to worry as much. The sorceress rode a large pinto pony next to Cearan, who had her engaged in quiet conversation.

  Riordan’s village lay along the banks of a tributary of the river that flowed by Burning Wood. He led the group further into the forest and away from the water for the first part of the day and caught back up to it close to dusk.