The Kinshield Legacy

by K. C. May

  As Gavin turned back to the tablet, his smile fell away. He cracked his knuckles, then took the tablet by its edges, flexing his big hands before settling them into place. He closed his eyes and whispered a single word: “Tayewessin.”

  Nothing happened. Daia expected harps or lightning – some grand affirmation of the rune’s resolution – but the cave was quiet except for Gavin’s labored breathing.

  He swayed on his feet. Before she could reach out to steady him, he dropped to his knees. “Are you all right?” she asked, bending to him. Her voice sounded strange in this place. It did not belong here. He nodded, his head bowed.

  Then, the fourth gem dropped from the tablet and clinked on the stone floor of the cave.

  “Blessed Yrys,” Daia whispered.

  Gavin reached for the gem and– Did it just move toward his hand? No, it couldn’t have. It must have been a glimmer of light playing tricks on her eyes.

  Gavin wrapped his fist around the pale blue gem. He started to stand, and she took his arm to help him up. Her head spun. She felt as weak and pale as Gavin looked. He straightened and looked down at her, his eyes now bloodshot and his lids heavy. “Want to be the queen o’Thendylath?”

  Daia’s mouth dropped open before she realized he was jesting. He smiled and she returned it. “No, I most certainly do not.”

  “You could help me learn the answer to the final rune, and we could take care of it here and now.”

  “No,” she said again, “but if you’re ready to claim the King’s Blood-stone now…”

  His smile dimmed and he looked toward the cave entrance. “We should be going. Scholars could show up any time, and I don’t want to be seen here.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I trust you can keep a secret?”

  Daia realized then what was different: his peasant’s speech had all but disappeared. “Of course,” she said. She would keep his secret, but only long enough to make him realize that becoming king was his destiny, not his choice.

  North of the cave, the forest stopped abruptly at the edge of a vast, rolling hillside. To the right, the mountains continued north, and the path to Sohan curved to the west across the plain. Any chance for a private moment would be gone for the next few hours, until the travelers reached one of the farms outside of Sohan.

  “I got to stop for a shit,” Gavin said.

  “Gavin, don’t be crude,” Daia said with a disgusted expression.

  Gavin bowed in the saddle with a graceful sweep of his arm. “I humbly beg your pardon, my lady.” He pinched his face into a mockery of sophistication and in a falsetto said, “I must pause to expel my dung.” They both laughed. “Keep going, I’ll catch up.” He turned Golam around and headed for the trees. She continued on the path at a slow walk.

  He tied Golam’s reins to a tree at the edge of the wood and walked into the forest, then picked up a stick with which to dig a hole. He took the sword off his back and leaned it against a tree. While he attended to his private business, the faint sound of a horse’s hooves in the distance grew louder by the second. Finished, he laced his trousers and put his sword on his back. The horse and its rider stopped on the path, and then turned toward him.

  It was a woman. A Viragon Sister.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. Had Daia led him here to fall into a trap set by her guild, pretending to be his friend?

  The rider started toward him at a trot, ducking under branches, but slowed as she neared. She stopped about thirty feet away and unhooked a bow from her saddle. “Come with me peacefully and you won’t get hurt.”

  “Why should I?” he asked. Another horse approached. Not Daia from the west, but someone else from the south. Shit. Two of them. He’d left his glove with Golam.

  The woman nudged her horse forward and nocked a slim arrow, its head a simple point. “Our leader wants to speak with you.”

  “Tell your leader to go to hell.”

  She drew.

  As he dove for cover behind a tree, Gavin felt a sharp sting in his thigh. When he climbed back to his feet, the shaft of an arrow protruded from his left leg. Just as he reached for the knife in his hip sheath, he felt its handle slap into his palm.

  The woman positioned another arrow on the rest.

  Gavin aimed and threw. The knife spun through the air and stopped, its blade buried in the woman’s chest. She fell from the saddle like a rag doll, landing face-up a dozen feet from Gavin.

  “Enamaria,” cried the other rider. “No!”

  The second Viragon Sister charged him. He drew his sword, readying for her attack, but she did not draw her weapon. Instead, she reined her horse hard, leapt from the saddle and ran to her friend.

  “You weren’t supposed to battle him,” she said, bending to Gavin’s attacker. “We were just supposed to--” She clapped a hand over her mouth, straightened abruptly and stepped back. She looked up at Gavin with shock in her eyes. “You killed her.”

  “She attacked me,” he answered.

  This woman looked young, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Her blonde hair swung easily as she shook her head. “She wouldn’t have hurt you.”

  “What the hell do you call this?” Gavin snapped, pointing at the arrow buried in his leg.

  Her eyes went to his leg and her mouth fell open. “Oh, Yrys! Let me help—” she said as she started toward him.

  “Stay back,” he shouted, raising his sword.

  She stopped and raised her palms. “I mean you no harm. I just want to help you.”

  “Drop your weapon to the ground,” he told her. She tossed her sword and dagger onto the ground several feet away.

  He gritted his teeth and took hold of the arrow shaft. With a hard yank, he pulled it out, biting down on a scream. Black spots whirled before his eyes and he shot a hand out to steady himself against the tree.

  The girl took a step, her hands reaching toward him. He pointed his sword at her and she stopped. “Please, let me clean and stitch your wound,” she said.

  Gavin could already feel the heat building. With every passing moment the pain lessened. “Why were you following me?” He limped over to the dead swordswoman to pull his knife from her chest.

  “Our guild mistress wants to talk to you, that’s all.”

  “That’s the rudest invitation I ever got.” He wiped the blood from the blade with the dry tail of her shirt and sheathed the knife. This girl probably wouldn’t attack him, but he held onto his sword anyway.

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. We were supposed to find out who you were, but when you showed up with Daia--”

  “Hold on, now. What does Daia know of this?” Gavin asked, lowering his voice.

  She blinked at him and swallowed. “Nothing, probably. She’s been away. They think she’s a traitor. She’ll be put in the stockade the minute she returns to the compound.”

  “Why’s she a traitor? What’d she do?”

  The girl stared at him. Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Finally, she whispered, “You’re the one. You’re going to be our new king.”

  “Tell me about Daia. Why’s she a traitor?” he asked.

  “S-She’s not. One of the black sashes said Daia killed JiNese and ran off with the Sisterhood’s money, but it’s a lie. I know Daia – she’s a good person. She would never dishonor herself or the Sisterhood like that.”

  Gavin pursed his lips. The Sisterhood was after the rune solver. Could it be the Viragon Sisters were in league with Ravenkind or Tyr and they already knew that Risan was not the rune solver? “What do you know of a Farthan blacksmith?”

  “I know nothing of any Farthan blacksmith.”

  “Is the Sisterhood allied with a Nilmarion named Sithral Tyr?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She looked too young and naïve to be deceitful. He relaxed his gaze and sensed her haze, clear and strong. It gave him the impression she’d been telling the truth.

  The Sisterhood could be allied with the Nilmarion. Maybe Daia knew exactly where R
isan was. Maybe she was pretending to help rescue Risan in order to lead Gavin into this trap. No wonder Daia didn’t want him looking at her haze; she had a reason to keep her intentions secret.

  “You can go back and tell your guild mistress that Daia’s no traitor.”

  Chapter 33

  As Daia rode slowly toward Sohan, she let her mind wander to the moment of her impending arrival at the Sisterhood complex. Her delay would be met with initial irritation, possibly anger, and she would accept the chastisement she deserved for failing to return immediately with the Sisterhood’s money. In fact, that might be the least of her problems; if Cirang had already returned and poisoned Aminda’s ears with her twisted version of the beyonder incident, Daia would undoubtedly receive more than a harsh word, possibly extra duties or restriction. Of course, JiNese said she would stand behind Daia, so it might not be as bad as all that. When Daia arrived with the rune solver at her side, surely any perceived error would be instantly forgiven.

  She turned in her saddle and looked back. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Gavin shouldn’t have taken this long. He wouldn’t have tried to run off without her, would he? No, he wanted to rescue Risan as badly as she did. Perhaps he’d run into beyonders or cutthroats. Daia turned her horse and backtracked, urging Calie to a gallop.

  There he was, ahead on the trail, riding at a trot toward her. She slowed Calie to a walk. Gavin stopped in the road a short distance away and held up a hand. “Stop right there.”

  She pulled the reins. “What’s going on?” She scanned the treeline behind him for signs of danger.

  “Throw your weapon to the ground,” he commanded.

  “What? Gavin, are you mad?”

  “Do it.”

  She urged Calie forward. “Gavin, what’s wrong?”

  He drew his sword.

  This was madness. Certain he was speaking to some new enemy, she looked behind her. They were alone.

  “Throw down your damned weapon. Now.”

  “All right.” She unsheathed her sword and tossed it onto the ground. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your dagger too.”

  She threw down the knife and held up her empty hands. “Gavin, what happened back there?” Her voice rose in alarm.

  He approached slowly. While he didn’t sheath his sword, at least he didn’t point it at her. His dark eyes were clouded with suspicion. “You set me up?”

  “What are you talking about? Set you up how?”

  “One o’your friends attacked me in the woods.”

  Her mouth fell open. “A Viragon Sister attacked you? That’s absurd.”

  He gestured to his leg.

  When Daia saw the blood on his trouser leg, her heart sank. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice thick with concern. “Let me see. I can clean and stitch it.” She started toward him again, but Golam took a few steps backward.

  Gavin held up a hand to stop her. “There were two o’them. One called you by name, the other’s dead. So, the guild mistress wants to talk to me, eh? What could she want, I wonder.”

  “Gavin, I have no idea what this is about. You must believe me. I would never betray you or do anything that might bring you harm. Read my haze -- I’m telling the truth. If Aminda wants to talk to you, she would simply invite you to the compound. We can go there and meet with her, and I’ll prove it.”

  “I doubt they’d be very happy to see you. They think you’re a traitor. Or so the other girl said.”

  “What?!” Even if Cirang had filled Aminda’s head with lies about the beyonder fight, Daia failed to see how that incident could be twisted into treason. It made no sense. “Where are they? I need to find out what in blazes is going on.” She dismounted and went to her sword. As she bent to pick it up, she looked up at him. “May I?”

  His gaze deepened and Daia felt the tickling sensation of him reading her haze. Gavin nodded and sheathed his sword. “They’re back there. In the woods. You can join your Sisters, or you can come with me. Make your choice here and now.”

  She retrieved her weapons and sheathed them. “Gavin, this is all some kind of horrible mistake. I don’t know who these women are, but I assure you, the guild mistress would never send someone to attack you.”

  “The Viragon Sisterhood’s my enemy now. Are you friend or foe?”

  “It’s not true. The Sisterhood is—”

  “Choose.”

  It was not a hard decision to make, but she hated having to make it at all. “You have my loyalty,” she said. “My sword is yours now and forever.” She went to one knee and bowed her head.

  Chapter 34

  Brodas Ravenkind examined the chest on his desk. He’d long believed that any magic could be defeated, but the gargoyle lock was both ingenious and maddening.

  Only three gems remained from his supply, and as he picked up each one, he kenned it, measuring it against the strength of his own magic. “Blasted rocks,” he muttered under his breath. For all but the most basic of spells, they were not nearly dense enough. Soon Lilalian’s battlers would apprehend the rune solver. Without a supply of magic grade gems, Brodas would have to rely on less civilized means to pry from his lips the solutions to the final two runes.

  He supposed he could extract the information by laying his hands upon the rune solver the way he healed people. But without gems to focus through, the task would be difficult at best. He would likely faint from the exertion and pain. Losing self-control that way was unacceptable, especially in the presence of the man solving the King’s Runes. No. He needed those gems.

  The irony was not lost on Brodas. He needed the King’s Blood-stone to get the answer to the rune that kept him from the King’s Blood-stone. A gem of equal quality would certainly do, but such stones were all too rare in Thendylath. One of the other gems, those already claimed by the mysterious rune solver, would be more than adequate, but until he was captured, those gems were equally inaccessible. Besides, only a fool would carry gems as invaluable as those around with him. Even when they did locate the rune solver, he wouldn’t likely reveal their location without prompting, and for that Brodas would need the very gems the rune solver would have hidden.

  If Sithral Tyr’s scheme worked, and his associates managed to secure a gemsmith’s daughter to hold for ransom, a supply of magic quality gems would soon be within reach. In fact, Brodas should have received word by now that the woman was in Tyr’s custody. Annoyance creased his brow. The Nilmarion probably got carried away torturing her and lost track of time.

  Brodas spent the afternoon searching his vast library for ideas on how to defeat the gargoyle lock. No such lock had been documented in any of his books, and as he set down one after another, he grew more and more irritated by his lack of progress and the futility of continuing to search.

  Someone knocked on the door of his library.

  “Come in,” he snapped. The unintentional volume of his voice surprised him and he relaxed his shoulders and rotated his head to ease the tension in his neck.

  Brodas expected to see his cousin when he looked up, but instead he found the youthful face of his newest man-at-arms. For once, he felt glad of it. “Ah, Domach, you’ve returned. I take it our guest is comfortable?”

  Domach Demonshredder bowed with more elegance than Brodas had thought him capable. “Guest, my lord?”

  Brodas sighed. Not so bright, this one. “The young lady you took to Sithral Tyr’s house,” he explained patiently.

  Domach’s eyes widened. “I waited at the Lucky Inn for a week, but Lord Tyr’s friends never arrived. I didn’t know I was to escort a lady, just that I would receive a package.”

  Brodas scowled. “Never arrived? Did you tell this to Tyr?”

  “I received my instructions from Toren Meobryn. Lord Tyr preferred it that way.”

  Trying to be careful, Brodas supposed. He didn’t blame the Nilmarion, especially after nearly being caught selling orphans to the slave traders. “All right, have you told Toren, then?”r />
  “Not exactly, my lord. He knew at the time he left the Lucky Inn that the package hadn’t yet arrived. I stayed a few more days and still Tyr’s friends did not come.”

  Brodas rubbed his brow. “All right. Why don’t you go relax for the evening and come back tomorrow? I’ll have an assignment for you then.”

  Domach bowed and left.

  No hostage meant no gems. No gems meant no answers to runes. This would not do. He turned back to the chest with the gargoyle lock. There had to be a way to get past it.

  Chapter 35

  The city of Sohan sat in the distance, embraced by a tall stone wall. Farmers led their mule-drawn carts through the eastern gate and dispersed into the farms that huddled around the city.

  Home. Daia looked forward to sleeping in her own bed, if only for one night.

  She glanced at the dried blood on his trouser leg. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” she asked. “That’s too large a blood stain for a ‘mere scratch,’ as you say. Just let me look at it.”

  Gavin shot her an impatient glower and said nothing.

  Daia sighed. “Fine. I won’t worry about you, then.”

  As they rode downhill toward Sohan, Daia grew more uneasy. If the things Gavin had said were true, she needed to find out why. Her reputation within the Sisterhood was far from her largest concern anymore. She’d pledged fealty to Gavin. She was no longer a Viragon Sister. His assertion that the Sisterhood had sent battlers to attack him weighed heavily upon her mind. She did not think he would lie to her, but found it difficult to believe. Gavin must have misunderstood what the two Sisters had told him. “I need to go to the compound and find out what’s going on,” Daia said.

  “You took an oath. You saying you want to break with me already?”

  “No, of course not. Gavin, the Sisterhood was my home – my family. That a Viragon Sister would attack you under orders from Aminda is disturbing. For my own peace of mind, I need to know why. I need to know whether the guild I spent six years of my life serving is corrupt at its core, or if those two battlers were renegades.”