by K. C. May
Just as they started to enter, a booming voice called down from above, “Is that Gavin Kinshield I hear?” Daia recognized the tall, sturdy form of the Lordover Lalorian as he made his way down the stairs dressed in a blue robe and brown leather slippers. Although slightly grayer, he looked just as she remembered him: a handsome man with a square jaw and thinning light brown hair.
“My lord.” Gavin bowed. “I’m glad to see you fare well.”
When he reached the landing, the lordover shook Gavin’s hand, gripping the knight’s elbow with his free hand. “Good of you to stop by. We haven’t seen you in a few months. You’re always welcome here. You know that, don’t you, son?”
“Yes, my lord. Your hospitality’s always appreciated. May I ask for your aid for our injured friend?”
Daia shot a startled glance at Gavin. Not only did he have the ability to turn the peasant speak on and off at will, it seemed he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the protocol of nobility, either -- although he hadn’t yet managed an introduction.
The lordover turned his gray eyes to Daia and Brawna. “Viragon Sisters.” His gaze fell to Brawna’s blood-stained clothing. “Of course. Let her rest here, Gavin. We’ll have a healer look after her. Has Edan offered you something to eat?”
“Yes, my lord,” Edan said as he joined them in the hall. “I just had to rouse the cook. May I introduce Daia Saberheart and Brawna Beliril of the Viragon Sisterhood.”
“Well met, my lord,” Daia and Brawna said together. Daia cast her eyes down as she bowed.
“Have we met before?” the lordover asked Daia. “You look familiar.”
“Briefly, my lord, a few years ago.” She studied the lordover for a sign of recognition. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gavin and Edan watching her. She hoped neither of them would give away her identity.
“Ah yes,” the lordover said, nodding. “Please allow my son to see to your needs in my stead. If you require anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
He was nicer than Daia remembered. Then again, her most vivid memory of him was in the ballroom of her father’s manor, shaking hands with the Lordover Tern, and then smiling up at her as she came down the stairs. A deal struck between two men for Daia’s future as if she were a milk cow at auction. “Thank you, my lord,” Daia said.
She glanced at Edan as he showed them into the dining hall. Handsome, sweet Edan. She hadn’t objected to him, but to the notion that she had no say in the matter of her own life. In fact, she might have chosen him had she been given the opportunity.
Chapter 50
Risan turned his hand over and back again and again. It looked so strange with the two fingers gone. The skin was new and pink, sensitive but healed. He moved the last two fingers on his left hand, then tried to do the same on his right. If they’d been there, they would have moved. He couldn’t stop looking at his hand. It looked alien, like the claw of a beyonder. Would Arlet be disgusted by him now, without all of his fingers? Would she pull away from his touch?
He leaned his head back against the wall as he sat on top of the wardrobe. Thank Yrys the bastard hadn’t cut off the fingers of his left hand. He could probably continue making weapons with his weaker hand crippled, but not his dominant hand.
The telltale clatter of the lock being unbolted was followed by the creak of the opening door. “Go on,” a voice said.
Risan heard a small whimper, then light footsteps descending. “Risan?” a little voice called out.
He climbed down from the wardrobe. “I am here, young Dwaeth. Do not be afraid.” The boy hurried down the stairs and peered around the corner. Risan smiled, and Dwaeth ran to him, his arms outstretched. Risan swept him up into his arms, only several inches higher from the ground than the boy stood already. Dwaeth clamped his legs around Risan’s thighs and sobbed.
“There now,” Risan said, patting Dwaeth’s back. “What this is about?”
For several minutes, the boy did not speak. He hugged Risan around the neck so tightly that the blacksmith had to slip his three remaining fingers around the boy’s elbow and tug to loosen his grip. Dwaeth cried and cried. At last, his sobs quieted and he lay still, his cheek against Risan’s wet shoulder.
“We climb up and sit for bit, yes?” Risan asked. “You can tell me what is wrong.”
Dwaeth climbed onto the wardrobe first. Risan followed him, then put an arm around Dwaeth’s shoulders and held him close while the boy hiccupped and sniffled.
“My mother’s dead,” Dwaeth whispered at last. “Lord Brodas said her fever came back and she died.”
Risan believed it to be a lie -- Brodas had undoubtedly murdered the woman long before now -- but he wouldn’t voice his suspicions to the boy. “I am sorry,” he said. “I know terrible sadness you must feel now. I wish I had wise words to say that make your heart feel not so heavy, but I have none. I have only my friendship to give.”
Dwaeth nodded and snuggled closer. “I’m an orphan now,” he said quietly. “I have to live on the street and beg for my food.”
“No, that is not true, Dwaeth,” Risan said. “You have friend right here who will never let harm come to you. You do not worry. I will take care of you.” He laid his cheek against the top of Dwaeth’s head. “I will take care of you,” he whispered.
If he survived.
Chapter 51
The velvet-smooth mahogany dining table was long enough to seat thirty, but the three weary travelers and their host clustered together at the end closest to the serving door. Gavin sat to Edan’s right, Daia to his left, and Brawna beside her. While they ate, Gavin told Edan about the kidnapped blacksmith and stolen sword. He saw Daia’s eyes flick toward him when he skipped the part about the rune stones being in the sword. But then her eyes grew round and she looked at Edan, no doubt realizing that he was the friend Gavin had spoken of - the man who would claim the King’s Blood-stone.
When their meal was finished and the plates cleared away, Daia scooted her chair away from the table and stood. “It’s time we found our beds and rested up for what’s to come tomorrow,” Daia said. “Thank you for the meal, Edan.”
When Gavin saw the telling sparkle in her gaze, he felt a tightening in his chest. It figured she would be attracted to a noble rather than a gritty man such as himself.
Brawna started to stand as well. Edan slipped behind Daia to pull Brawna’s chair out, and helped her rise. He picked up a bell from the table and gave it a jingle. “Secan will show you to your rooms.” To Brawna, he said, “And find you something to wear. Let me know if you need anything at all.”
Gavin realized he was the only one still sitting and shot to his feet as the two women followed the steward out. Once they were gone, he and Edan took their seats again. “So,“ Gavin said, ”she’s the Lordover Tern’s daughter. The one you were supposed to wed?”
“Yes, and gladly,” Edan replied. “She didn’t see things the same way.”
“She fancies you. I can see it in her eyes.”
“That I never doubted. I think it was the process she objected to: the fact that her father had made the choice, and not her.”
Gavin nodded. “Yeh, I can understand that. Life’s hard enough without someone else choosing it for us. Say, that reminds me. Can I ask your help for someone?”
Edan smiled. “Is he sporting your brand?” He’d never objected to giving aid to the people Gavin sent, especially since a few, through their own determination and hard work, had become indispensable members of the lordover’s guard. One had even earned himself a warrant tag.
“Yeh,” Gavin said, “but this one’s a woman with three children.” He gave Edan the woman’s sad story.
“Certainly,” Edan said. “You don’t have to ask, you know. Just tell them to mention your name when they come knocking. So tell me what you’ve been up to, Gav.” He slapped Gavin’s shoulder. “You need to come by more often. It’s been ages since we’ve adventured together.”
“Here, I’ll show you.” Gavin reached into hi
s pocket. It was as good a time as any to bring it up, and he may not get another chance to talk to Edan alone. He withdrew the light blue gem. “What do you make o’this, Edan?” he asked, setting the gem on the table.
“Ho!” Edan rocked back in his chair. “What in the name of bloody hell, Gavin? Do you know what this is?”
“Tell me,” Gavin replied. With Edan’s sharp mind and background as a gemsmith, it wouldn’t take him long to work out the whole story.
Edan ran his hands through his hair while he stared at the stone with an incredulous gape. “Blue Moonstone, some people call it. Very rare.” He picked it up and held it close to his face. “Wait... a... minute. I need--” Edan shot to his feet and ran from the room, returning after barely a minute and holding a loupe between his thumb and forefinger. When he sat back down, he examined the gem through the eyepiece. “The quality of this gem’s remarkable. Without a more thorough examination under better light, I can’t be sure, but I’m willing to bet this is the highest magic-grade gem of its kind.” He set the gem down, slipped the loupe into his pocket and looked up at Gavin. “This would bring you several thousand large gold pieces – if you could find someone wealthy enough to buy it.” A worried crease appeared between his brows. “Gavin, I’d expect to find a gem like this in the Rune Tablet.”
Gavin watched Edan, waiting.
Edan studied him with a cocked head. Then he smiled and started to chuckle. The chuckle became laughter, infectious laughter, and Gavin began to laugh as well. Soon the two of them guffawed until they gasped for breath, red faced and clutching their sides.
“Well, I’ll be a mongrel dog,” Edan said, wiping tears from his eyes. “My old friend, Gavin Kinshield. You never cease to surprise and amaze me.”
Gavin shrugged, the smile fading from his face. If the uneducated, unrefined cad solving the land’s greatest mysteries were not him, he’d still be laughing.
“You’re going to be our king,” Edan whispered. He, too, was no longer smiling.
“See, that’s what I need to talk to you about,” Gavin began. “You know as well as I do that I ha’nt got the upbringing to be a king. Forget for a minute that I don’t want the damned job, the people would never accept me.”
“So why are you solving the runes if you don’t want the throne?” Edan asked.
Gavin put a hand to his brow and rubbed it. “I don’t know. That’s the hell of it. The damned runes – they talk to me in my sleep. It’s a bloody curse.”
“Well, there are only two left. If you don’t want the job, now’s a good time to ask Asti-nayas for a miracle.”
Gavin gave him a sardonic smile. “One left.”
Edan’s eyes went wide. “This--? You just solved the fourth rune?”
Gavin nodded slowly. “A couple days ago. The King’s Blood-stone’s all that’s left.”
Edan leaned back in his chair and exhaled audibly. “I have one piece of advice to offer, Gavin, and that is: you’d better forget about that last rune or get used to me calling you ‘Your Majesty.’”
Gavin cringed. He’d hoped this would go a little more smoothly. “Look, Edan. There’s someone who would make a better king than me. He’s noble born, fair-minded, generous, caring, trustworthy -- and he’s always given me the most level-headed advice when I found myself--”
“Hold a minute there, Kinshield,” Edan said with his palms raised. “You don’t for a minute think that…” He paused, searching Gavin’s face. His eyes widened. “By the sword of King Arek! You do.”
Gavin raised his brows hopefully. “Edan, think about it. I’m a warrant knight, better equipped to be your champion--”
“No,” Edan said flatly.
“You have the upbringing--”
“No.”
The two of them sat in silence studying each other. If only Gavin could make Edan see how much sense it made.
“Edan, I truly think--”
“No,” Edan repeated.
Gavin sighed. “I ain’t going to convince you, am I?”
“No,” Edan said with a smile. He reached over and gripped Gavin’s shoulder. “Be of good cheer, Gavin. Everything will work out as it should.”
“How can that be?” he grumbled.
“Since his heir didn’t survive, King Arek probably would have wanted Ronor Kinshield to take the throne. You’re the closest thing we have. Hell, you are Ronor Kinshield, a couple hundred years later.”
“That ain’t funny, Edan.”
“I’m only half-teasing. As Ronor’s descendent, you’re the obvious choice.”
Gavin rubbed his brow. He loathed what he was about to do, and he wouldn’t do it if he weren’t desperate. “I hate to bring it up,” he said, “but twelve years ago, you told me that you’d do anything for me. I need you to do this, Edan.”
“Gavin, I owe you more than I could ever hope to repay. I would gladly do anything for you,” Edan said. “Anything. You are more like a brother to me than even a blood-born brother would be. But what you’re asking me to do isn’t for you. It’s for all of Thendylath. The man solving the runes is destined to lead our country. If that’s you, then I’ll be beside you for every step you take, lending my shoulder for you to lean on when you’re weary. But I can’t walk your path for you.”
Gavin sat solemnly, Edan’s words weighing heavily upon his heart. His friend spoke the truth, and some small part of him had come to hear it. The larger part denied it vehemently. “I can’t, Edan. I can’t do it.” He couldn’t keep baby chickens alive, couldn’t keep his family safe; how could he possibly be responsible for the well-being of hundreds of thousands of people?
Edan leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “So if you can’t bring yourself to do it, then don’t. The choice is yours, after all. Isn’t that what you’ve always believed?”
Gavin scowled. “But it ain’t as simple as that. The gems contained King Arek’s magic. When I got the gems, I got the magic too. Brawna was close to death when we found her this afternoon. I healed her wounds by touch. I can see hazes too -- tell if people are sick or lying or what not. Who knows what other powers I haven’t figured out yet.”
“I’ll be damned,” Edan said. “Where are the other gems?”
Gavin leaned forward. “You know the blacksmith we told you about? The sword he made was for me. The others gems are in it. The man who’s holding him also ordered Brawna’s torture because she saw my face. He’s after the King’s Blood-stone.“
“So if you claim the King’s Blood-stone, he won’t have reason to hold Stronghammer.”
Gavin regarded him for a moment. “It’s Brodas Ravenkind.”
Edan blanched.
“He won’t stop until he gets what he wants. I have to kill him,” Gavin said. “I should’ve done it five years ago.”
Edan said, “I’m coming with you,” as Daia walked in.
She looked from one to the other. “You told him about Ravenkind.” Gavin nodded. “Forgive me for being blunt, Edan,” Daia said as she returned to her seat, “but I doubt we can negotiate with him.”
Gavin and Edan shared a smile. “Edan’s a champion archer,” Gavin explained. “He’s saved my hide with that bow o’his more times than I can count.”
“You know, every scar I have I got from saving you,” Edan said, grinning.
“Not every scar,” Gavin reminded him.
Edan touched his hand to his head. “All right, not every scar.”
They traded tales of adventure and mishap until their yawns started replacing their laughs.
“We’d better get some rest,” Daia said. “Morning will be upon us soon.”
Chapter 52
The following morning, Brodas rose after a fitful sleep and paced in his library. The rune solver was still at large, and Brodas had only an obstinate blacksmith and a handsome sword.
Surely the rune solver wanted his sword, if he was, indeed, a ’ranter. But what did he know about Brodas? He knew that the Sisterhood was looking for him, but
only Lilalian and her officers knew anything of Brodas’s alliance with the Sisterhood. The only person who might present any danger to Brodas was Domach’s sister. However slim the chance was that the battler would find his way to her, she knew Brodas’s name and face. She knew where he lived. Perhaps instructing Toren not to kill her hadn’t been the wisest course.
And what of her brother, Domach Demonshredder? While he carried out his instructions under the threat of harm to his sister, he would turn on Brodas at his first opportunity. Of that, Brodas had no doubt.
A horrible thought crossed his mind: Domach had a map to Tyr’s farmhouse. He might have gone there to rescue his sister. Brodas reached over and rang the bell to summon his manservant. “Is Domach here? Have you seen him?”
“Yes, my lord. He’s at the stable.”
Getting ready to leave, no doubt. Brodas pushed past the servant and hurried through the kitchen and out the rear door. The day was chillier than recent days, and a smattering of clouds, some gray, some white, cast floating shadows on the ground. He hurried through the courtyard to the gate as a breeze billowed his shirt. Domach stood beside the stable, knife in hand, aiming at the wall.
Brodas felt a warm flood of relief. He started to call out, but hesitated, deciding it was better to wait until the battler was unarmed. Domach threw the knife, then cursed himself.
“Domach, come here.” Brodas waited while the swordsman jogged over.
Domach’s eyes were rimmed with dark circles, and the corners of his mouth were pinched. His entire body seemed stretched and on the verge of breaking.
“Let’s go inside. I have something to discuss with you,” Brodas said, clapping his shoulder. Domach leaned away from his touch. Once they were inside, Brodas motioned for Domach to lead the way. To turn his back on the man could prove a fatal mistake. “To my library, if you please.”
Once inside his library, Brodas gestured to a chair. “Now then,” he said, shutting the door, “I must admit I’m surprised you’re still here.” He sat next to Domach and crossed his ankles.