by K. C. May
Risan knew the boy would be better off going upstairs than witnessing whatever cruelty or execution Ravenkind had in store for Risan. “You will be fine,” he said. “Just do what he tells you.”
“But what about you?”
“Crusty old Farthan like me cannot be hurt so easy. You do not worry about Risan.” He gave the boy a hug. “Be brave.”
He watched Dwaeth go to the stairs and climb slowly up. With every footstep, Risan felt his heart breaking a little more.
His own son hadn’t been much older than this boy, taken by the plague that had swept through the province twelve years earlier. Risan and Arlet had prayed to Yrys night and day, sacrificed everything but the clothes on their backs, but none of it had helped. If you are listening now, Yrys, please keep Dwaeth safe.
Warrick came down first, armed with his sword. Risan made no move to attack. Warrick motioned with his hand. Another set of footsteps started down the stairs.
“Now, then,” Brodas said. “Since the sword won’t let me use its gems against you directly, we have to do this the old fashioned way.” The cold look in Brodas’s eyes made Risan shudder.
Warrick handed his sword and the knife at his hip to Brodas, and then advanced on Risan.
Risan feinted one way and dived the opposite. Warrick lunged after him. Risan tried to slip the battler’s grasp, but his tunic was caught in a powerful vice.
Warrick shoved Risan to the table, wrestled his left arm behind his back and forced his right hand onto the table. He held it there by the wrist. Brodas swept the crumbs aside and splayed Risan’s fingers on the table.
A black eye would fade. Even a lost tooth was not so terrible. But now the monster was going to dismember him. Risan started to tremble.
“It would be a shame for you to lose your livelihood over something so easy to prevent,” Brodas said. “Tell me who you made the sword for.”
Risan’s heart pounded. He feared the pain, yes he did, but more than that, he feared this man becoming king. “Go to hell.”
Brodas lay the blade of Warrick’s knife against the little finger on Risan’s right hand. With one swift motion, he lifted the knife handle and rocked the blade down. It severed Risan’s finger where it joined his hand.
“Aaaagh!” The pain was searing at first, but it faded quickly leaving a sharp numbness behind. Brodas healed the wound instantly.
“We don’t want you to bleed to death.”
Risan shut his eyes and concentrated on slowing his heart and calming the ache.
“Who did you make the sword for?”
Risan opened his mouth to answer, then paused. It would be so easy to believe that with just two words he would be on his way home to Arlet: Gavin Kinshield. Brodas leaned closer to hear the name. “Yrys smite you,” Risan whispered.
“I imagine a blacksmith can still make weapons with one finger missing or even two, but at what point does a hand become useless?” Brodas asked. “When is a hand not truly a hand?”
The knife came down again, severing his ring finger.
The pain was greater this time. Risan’s mouth watered and his head swam. His legs crumbled beneath him.
Chapter 48
As dusk deepened into night and Gavin, Daia and Brawna made their way toward Lalorian, Gavin saw Daia glance repeatedly skyward. He grinned, but he wouldn’t tease her in front of Brawna. He had enough on his mind anyway, knowing that the time to face Brodas drew near. Even with a squad of experienced warriors, Gavin didn’t hold much hope of surviving the fight, but he would rather be killed in battle trying to keep Brodas off the throne than to live under the wizard’s rule.
Brawna’s arms started to relax around his waist, and she leaned into his back. He clutched her wrists in his hand to keep her from tumbling off Golam’s back in sleep.
“Why wouldn’t Ravenkind have killed her?” Daia asked quietly.
“He prob’ly thinks she knows somethin’ useful. Or he wants to use her as leverage against someone.”
Daia gasped. “Domach. Brawna’s Domach’s sister.”
“Oh, damn. Hidegild. Only it isn’t his own hide Demonshredder has to pay for.“
“You said Ravenkind killed your family. Tell me about him.”
Gavin should have kept his damned mouth shut. But he supposed he had to tell her sooner or later. He took a deep breath. “After I got my warrant tag, work was hard to find. Employers who wanted to pay cheap hired battlers without a warrant. The ones who wanted experience didn’t hire the newly warranted. I was barely earning enough to feed my family, and Talisha, my wife, was pregnant with our second child. Ravenkind promised a great reward for the recovery o’the Star Fire Gem. Gemsmiths said it would give a wizard unimaginable power.”
“I heard a story about that. Didn’t someone throw it into the sea?”
Gavin nodded. “Yeh. I hunted it down, and as I was going to his house to deliver it, I glimpsed the gem’s power. Even someone like me, with no magic ability, could use it to... ride along with another person. See through his eyes, hear what he hears. And I heard Ravenkind tell his cousin Warrick how he planned to use it against the Lordover Lalorian to seize control of the city. So I took it to the Bay o’Hope and threw it as far as I could.”
“How did Ravenkind find out?”
Gavin snorted. “I told him,” he said. “Too immature and cocksure to think anyone could best me in battle. What could he do, send his puppet-cousin after me? Then I learned that his idea o’revenge is hurting people you love.” He hoped Daia could imagine the rest and he wouldn’t have to relive the nightmare through its retelling.
“What happened?” she asked in a low voice.
Gavin sat at the kitchen table with Caevyan on his lap. He reached around her to lace and tie her shoe.
“Papa, can we go to the market for a sugar nut?” Her little hand touched his face, turning it toward hers.
Someone knocked at the front door. “I’ll answer it,” Talisha called from the bedroom.
“Let’s see if Mama wants to come too,” Gavin said. He kissed his daughter’s nose and pressed his prickly cheek against her neck. She laughed her cherubic music and pushed at his face. He pretended to nibble on her neck and ear. “Mmm! Who needs sugar nuts?”
“Gavin?” Talisha called, her voice thick with urgency.
He stood and sat Caevyan on the chair. “Stay here,” he said, pointing a parental finger.
Brodas Ravenkind stood in the great room, an artificial smile on his face.
Unarmed, Gavin lunged forward leading with a punch, pushing Talisha behind him. Brodas darted to the side. Gavin’s fist hit the door, blowing it apart with a thunderous boom.
Talisha screamed.
“Papa?” Caevyan called behind him.
“Take her! Run!” Gavin yelled at his wife. She turned obediently and waddled toward their daughter.
Gavin swung a hook and connected with the wizard’s temple. A chilly sensation shot up his arm and down his body. The feeling of pins pricking his body raced after it, enveloping him. The floor rose to meet him, flattening him with a thud.
He tried to push himself up, but his arms flopped uselessly against the wood floor. The unseen pins engulfed him, tingling where his face pressed against the floor.
He watched in horror as Brodas strolled into the kitchen. Something slammed into the cupboard, followed by the crash of dishes breaking. “No! Please, no!“ Talisha cried. Gavin couldn’t see what was happening. He tried again to get up, but couldn’t feel his arms or legs.
Caevyan screamed. “Mama!”
Brodas returned with a knife in one hand and Talisha’s hair in the other. She walked bent over alongside him. Caevyan followed behind, her red face scrunched in a silent wail.
Gavin pushed with all his strength against the force that kept him on the floor. His arm shifted forward barely an inch.
Brodas let go of Talisha. She dropped to her knees. Caevyan ran into her arms, and they clung to each other, sobbing. “Gavin, please,” Talisha wailed.
Gavin looked into his wife’s moist blue eyes, begging her to see what lay behind his own, to see that he wasn’t able to come to her aid. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a slur of alien sounds. I love you. I will kill him.
Brodas grabbed Gavin by the shirt collar and hauled him upright to sit against the wall, propped up lazily. “You’ll want to watch this,” he said. He turned back to Gavin’s wife and daughter. “What a beautiful family you had,” he said softly. With a casual flick, he ripped the knife against Talisha’s throat.
Blood sprayed out in a pulsing arc, drenching Talisha, Caevyan and the floor around her.
No! Gavin screamed in his mind. You bastard! No!
A few drops of blood landed on the toe of Gavin’s boot. Talisha clutched her neck and held Gavin’s gaze, her eyes wide.
Caevyan pulled back and looked up at her mother. A river of blood wound a path down the front of Talisha’s dress, across her bosom and swollen belly. It drenched Caevyan’s copper-colored hair, her arms, her dress. Talisha fell back and lay still.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Gavin looked up to see Brodas watching him, a smug smile on his face.
Caevyan turned around and looked at Gavin. “Papa?” she asked, her voice squeaky.
“Run to Papa,” Brodas said softly. His eyes were on Gavin rather than the child.
Caevyan pushed herself to her feet and turned toward Gavin. No! NO! Brodas brought the knife down in an underhanded arc, plunging it into Caevyan’s back.
She stumbled toward Gavin, her arms outstretched. Blood soaked her yellow dress. “Papa!”
Come to Papa, Baby Girl. Papa’s here. He tried to reach for her, but only one finger twitched.
Her legs gave way and she fell, her outstretched hand landing inches from Gavin’s limp one. She reached toward him. One little finger, wet with blood, grazed his palm and went still.
No. My little girl. Caevyan, wait. I’m here, Baby. Papa’s here.
“Would you like to see what your wife would have given you?” Brodas asked.
Gavin tore his eyes away from the lifeless stare of his daughter and looked upon the monster standing over his wife’s corpse. Please don’t. Please. He hoped Brodas would see the pain and defeat in Gavin’s eyes and leave now, triumphant, his revenge complete.
Brodas squatted down beside Talisha’s body and plunged the knife into the top of her abdomen, then slit her belly open, working the knife back and forth. With a hard stab, he speared the tiny infant and lifted it from Talisha’s womb.
Gavin’s stomach heaved. Vomit spewed from his mouth and ran down his chin and neck.
“Congratulations, Kinshield. You would have had a son.” After tossing the impaled corpse of Gavin’s son onto Talisha’s still form, he walked up to Gavin and squatted. “Cross me again and I’ll kill every Kinshield in Thendylath and deliver their heads to you.”
“By Yrys,” Daia whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shrugged in the darkness and cleared his throat to ease the tightness. Brawna sniffled and tightened her arms around him.
“I’d understand if you want to do unspeakable things to Ravenkind when we catch up to him,” Daia said.
“Kill him,” Gavin replied, his voice hoarse. “That’s the best we can hope for. Kill him afore he kills us.”
Chapter 49
They arrived in Lalorian late into the night, welcomed by a constant chorus of cricket song. Daia followed Gavin to a large estate on several acres of land. Wide lawns rolled lazily across it, dotted with several large trees. At the front of the property, a statue of a bowing servant welcomed them.
“Gavin,” Daia said, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat. “This is the lordover’s mansion.”
“Yeh. I know.”
She rubbed her moist palms on her trouser legs. What if she saw the lordover’s son? What would she say?
The guard at the gatehouse came out at their approach. “Halt and identify– Cap’n? That you?” He laughed, extending his hand. “How the hell are you?”
Gavin reached down to shake his hand. “Adrilith. Well met. You staying a step ahead of ‘em?”
“As always,” Adrilith nodded at Brawna and Daia. “Lady Sisters,” he said. “I believe everyone has retired for the night, but Lord Edan will be happy to see you at any hour.”
Lord Edan? Gavin’s friend was the lordover’s son. Daia felt lightheaded.
“Go on up,” Adrilith said. “Knock hard. Secan will admit you. I’ll see to your horses.” Adrilith reached for Golam’s bridle and gave the horse’s thick neck a pat. “Golam, you still flirting with the ladies?”
“Yeh, the mule’s hopeless,” Gavin said, dismounting. He caught Brawna as she climbed down. Daia dismounted and ducked under Brawna’s other arm, as much to steady herself as to support Brawna.
“Why did he call you ‘Captain’?” Daia asked as they walked toward the manor.
“I used to work in service to the lordover. I was Captain o’the Guard when I resigned. The Lordover Lalorian issued my warrant.”
“And that’s how you know his son,” Daia guessed.
“No, we met long afore that.”
At the front door, Gavin lifted the knocker and banged it several times. The metallic clang echoed in the brisk night air.
“You should have mentioned your friend was the lordover’s son,” Daia whispered. Her heart was pounding now. She didn’t get so nervous when confronted by lordovers or brigands or beyonders. Of course, she hadn’t been promised to any of those.
“Does it matter?”
Moments later the door cracked open and a squinting eye appeared below a bushy gray brow. “Secan,” Gavin said with a nod.
With a sigh, the steward opened the door and stepped back. “Could you not have come at a more reasonable hour, Master Kinshield?” he asked as the three of them stepped into the entry. His addressing Gavin as a young boy led Daia to believe that he’d known Gavin for quite some time. The steward wore a long nightshirt and a pair of leather slippers, and carried a lamp in his left hand. He squinted at the trio through his spectacles and hmphed. “Wait here, if you please,” he said. The steward set the lamp on a table and scuffled away into the darkness.
“Let’s sit you down,” Daia said. She guided Brawna into the receiving room to the right of the entry hall and let her sink into a plush chair. Gavin used the lamp to light two wall sconces, brightening the entry hall and receiving room considerably.
A small castle, the manor had high domed ceilings decorated with exquisitely carved figures of fairy-tale elven cherubs and mythical sorcerers. The furnishings came from the shops of the land’s finest craftsmen. Beneath them, a luxurious carpet of rich, thick wool stretched from one wall to the other. Daia hadn’t been inside a lordover’s manor in some time, and the immaculate luxury seemed strange to her, as though she’d stepped into a familiar dream.
“How long have you known Lord Edan?” she asked.
“Let me think... Twelve years now. He’s a nice buck. Gentlemanly. You’ll like him.”
Like him. Daia snorted.
Barefoot and dressed in gray trousers and a wrinkled white tunic, Edan Dawnpiper came directly, a broad smile on his face. “Gav!” he said, extending his hand. “Where the hell have you been, you old cur?”
He looked exactly as she remembered him: wiry build, with light brown hair and a mustache draped above an amazing smile. But now he was even more a man, and far more dashing.
Gavin gripped his friend’s hand and pulled Edan into a brotherly embrace. “Got more scars and fewer coins, but staying alive. How’ve you been?”
“Better than well, with so many blessings I’ve lost count. I see you’ve brought friends—” Edan’s eyes flew wide. “Dashielle?” he asked coming toward her.
“How now, Edan,” she replied. Her heart beat like a hundred wild horses in her chest. She cleared her throat. “It’s Daia now. Daia Saberheart.”
“What?” Gavin ask
ed.
Edan offered his hand, warm and gentle, but rougher than most noblemen’s. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, while his deep blue eyes held hers. The hair above his lip tickled her skin. His lips were warm and moist. Daia remembered how soft they felt pressed against her own. Her knees weakened. She realized she was smiling, and her teeth were drying out. She licked her lips.
“What a genuinely pleasant surprise, my lady. I’m glad to see you fare well.” He turned to Gavin. “You didn’t tell me you knew Dash-- sorry, Daia.”
Gavin’s eyes flew wide. “You’re Dashielle Célond.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered. “Wish you’d told me that sooner.”
To Edan Daia said, “We have an injured friend and wondered if she could rest here until she regains her strength.”
“Of course.” Edan went to Brawna. “Forgive me. I’m Edan Dawnpiper,” he said, offering his hand.
She shook it limply. “Well met, my lord. I’m Brawna Beliril.”
“She’s known at the Sisterhood as Brawna the Blade,” Daia said, winking at Brawna.
“Somehow I don’t doubt it. Well met, Brawna. You’ll be safe here.” Edan looked up at Gavin. “Why don’t you two take Brawna to the dining room while I rouse the cook and have him warm something up for you.”
Edan started down the corridor, and paused, turning. He looked directly into Daia’s eyes. “Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to see you again?”
“Why, thank you, Edan,” Gavin said. “It’s wonderful to see you too.”
Daia pinched the back of Gavin’s arm. “Likewise,” she told Edan.
“So,” Gavin said with his gap-toothed smile. “You were promised to Edan.”
He knew. Daia averted her eyes. “Let’s just go eat.” She helped Brawna stand.
Gavin grinned at her as they walked, but said nothing more about it. When they reached a wide hall near the bottom of a curving staircase, he stopped. “This is it. Let me get the door,” he said as he reached for the knob.