The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5)

by Kristen Gupton

  They rode through the ruins, simply wanting to get to the road on the other end of it. All of them were tired from their early start, and little in the way of conversation had yet taken place.

  Though most of the ground was covered in a scorched, black layer of soot, there were prints of animals and men where the normal dusty color of the soil showed through.

  They’d not seen any evidence of other travelers on the southern side of Maris. Whoever had been here must have turned around and gone back after exploring a bit.

  Jerris reined his horse to a stop, seeing an empty bottle he’d left on a fence post during his time there after fleeing Tordan Lea. How it had survived the fire and remained upright amused him, and he bent to reach out and pick it up.

  Jerris gripped it with just two fingers by the end, not wanting soot all over his hands. He sat back up and looked at it, seeing the handprint around the middle of it, a clean bit of glass showing where it had been wiped off.

  Etras stopped beside the guard, frowning to see him holding the old bottle. “Everything you touch for the rest of the day will be black!”

  Jerris didn’t respond, his eyes staring off blindly. He didn’t hear Etras, nor did he even process his presence. In his mind, he saw Keiran standing where he now sat on his horse, holding the same bottle. It was a surreal feeling, like slipping into a dream.

  The Sadori raised his brows and reached over, poking Jerris in the shoulder. “Where have you gone?”

  The redhead blinked and slowly turned his head toward Etras. “What?”

  “You are daydreaming,” Etras laughed, signaling his horse forward.

  Jerris watched him go before looking at the bottle he still held. Keiran had been there looking for him. He absolutely knew it.

  Through his exhaustion, his lips hinted at a smile. He leaned back over, carefully placing the bottle where it had been. It just seemed like it was supposed to be there.

  * * *

  “A word?”

  Sygian lifted his head and looked toward the entrance to the library, immediately realizing that Keiran was doing an ill-fated impression of him. He quirked a brow, amused. “You know, two can play at that game…if I were any good at it, not that you are.”

  The vampire moved closer to his grand councillor and dropped down into the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “I know, I’m terrible at it. Regardless, Thana had a very rough night. I wasn’t even with her and she had a nightmare that I turned into Athan. If it’s going to happen to her even though I’m trying to keep my distance…”

  Sygian gave a slow nod. “Having spoken with our queen, I don’t see her suffering from any sort of mental illness. I don’t believe she’s going insane. The more I think about it, the more I do lean toward her current troubles stemming from Mother Thinliss.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that, though I knew it already.” Keiran slumped down into the chair, pressing his hands to his temples. His sleepless night had left him with yet another headache. “I didn’t lose my self control after seeing how terrified she was last night, but it wasn’t easy, Sygian. Thana can’t keep going through this, or she will lose her mind. If it means I have to take her from here and run away, I will do so before allowing her to be destroyed emotionally.”

  “Which would mean that Mother Thinliss won, wouldn’t it?” the councillor asked.

  “Aye, and it isn’t in the best interest of the country. Besides, do you really want to be king?” Keiran asked.

  The old man wrinkled his nose and lifted his hands. “Not in the least. I prefer working behind the scenes, if you will.”

  Keiran caught his breath for a moment, pushing out with his senses as best he could. Though he trusted Sygian, his concern for Thana superseded all else. Despite his abilities being horribly dulled, he shoved forward mentally.

  Sygian locked into Keiran’s stare and squinted back at him, a pain running along the inside of his skull. He reached up and squeezed the back of his neck, wondering if sitting in his chair for too long was causing problems.

  The vampire sharply turned his head to the side and huffed. He’d seen the mounting pain he’d caused his councillor and felt bad about it. However, Sygian was being sincere.

  “Are you all right?” Keiran asked.

  Sygian felt the tension in his head quickly abate, and he put his hands on the desk before him again. “Sorry, just had a little twinge between the ears. You were saying?”

  Keiran had lost his own train of thought for a moment. “Uh, I… So, if I act against Mother Thinliss, she wins. If I run away to spare Thana, she wins. Sygian, I’m not liking this situation.”

  “Indeed you shouldn’t. That’s why you may find a conversation I had last night with an old friend of some interest.” Sygian gave up a coy smile, leaning forward. “A former priestess from a little town called Boud. Heard of it?”

  Keiran quirked a brow. “I passed through it last year. It’s just south of Stanth.”

  “It most certainly is,” Sygian replied, leaning back and lacing his hands over his stomach. “Her name is Elspeth Methaius.”

  Keiran leapt to his feet, knocking his chair backward. A flash of immediate and hot anger hit him. “No! Sygian, if she’s a relative of Peirte’s, I want nothing of it!”

  “Temper…” Sygian lifted his hands and leaned to the side, seeing the chair knocked over. “Keiran, it’s an unfortunate coincidence, I assure you. However, it is a common name on the coast. Though she’s my age and was around when Peirte was running amok in Stanth, she had nothing to do with it. Again, she was in Boud.”

  Keiran gave him a sidelong glance as he took a step back and slowly reached down to get the chair righted. Sygian wasn’t wrong about the commonality of the name in that portion of the country.

  “I’m a bit flighty lately,” Keiran said with a sheepish grin.

  The old man gave a shake of his head, noting Keiran’s fangs had appeared. “And, as I said, a former priestess. She left the church after Adreth Thinliss swept in to undo Peirte’s work, as our dear Mother Thinliss tried to not only lock down the congregation in Stanth, but all the other churches in the area.”

  Keiran quirked a brow. “So, this Elspeth was able to endure Peirte’s madness, but she quit when Thinliss came onto the scene?”

  “Precisely. However, Peirte contained his activities to just Stanth. As I said, Thinliss was very eager to bring all the area’s churches under her absolute control.”

  That caught Keiran’s attention. “Adreth is power hungry.”

  “Indeed, it would seem so.” Sygian flashed a quick smile. “Not very becoming of someone in the church.”

  “Not at all.” Keiran drew in a deep breath and landed back in his chair. “However, there is no means of Mother Thinliss taking over the entire country, whether I abdicate or not, and she already has control of the church.”

  “No, there is no legal means of her doing so,” Sygian fell silent as a pair of guards walked past the library door. “Keiran, Elspeth had a bit more to say, though. However, I can’t say it will clear up her motivations for what she’s doing…”

  The vampire leaned forward onto the desk and narrowed his eyes. “Is that so?”

  “There was an old crone living in Stanth during Peirte’s time there. He had her hunted down and publically killed by his fanatics, claiming she was the source of the demonic possessions taking place,” Sygian said.

  “But it was his doing,” Keiran added.

  “So Elspeth and many others believe, and in light of what we here know of Peirte, I’d say they were absolutely correct. Killing the witch was merely a means of him tidying up his trail. There are those who claim it was the old woman who’d been teaching Peirte the dark arts in the first place.” Sygian rolled his eyes. “Tangled, isn’t it?”

  Keiran gave a small nod. “So, how does this link back to Adreth? Aside from her also being a witch?”

  Sygian placed his palms flat against the desk and stood up, leaning as close to Keiran
as he could manage. He locked gazes with the vampire, his expression going deadpan, his voice barely above a whisper. “Though her identity was shrouded given her hermit-like existence, Elspeth made it something of a mission of hers to trace the old woman’s past, to see where she’d come from, and how she may have originally learned black magic. You might find it of interest that the crone Peirte had executed was named Isuelt Thinliss, and unlike Methaius, that is not a common name.”

  The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “So, a relative of our beloved Adreth?”

  Sygian eased back into his seat. “Isuelt’s father was a wealthy man. He’d sired Isuelt when he was merely twenty, and his last daughter during his seventh marriage at the age of ninety four.”

  “God, well, good for him, I suppose. Let me guess, her name was Adreth?” Keiran asked.

  Sygian gave a nod and a wink. “Fast thinker, aren’t you?”

  Keiran gave a slow blink. “So, Adreth’s entire drive is familial revenge, even though Peirte is already gone?”

  Sygian gave a smile. “It certainly seems a lot like it. Since she wasn’t able to take care of Peirte herself, perhaps going after any remaining vestiges of the court he was involved in his the best she can do. The Church Knights may just have to call in a meeting with her to find out how much she’s willing to admit to.”

  “If you knew them,” Keiran added, his mind already wandering into the possibilities.

  “Of course.”

  * * *

  Baden stood in Sabetha’s room before her dresser. He reached out and picked up one of the large feathers lying upon it, seeing the root of it covered in dried blood. “These didn’t fall out of their own accord.”

  The harpy stood behind him, her clawed hands twisted together before her chest. Though she’d been initially overjoyed to see Baden again, worry and paranoia had quickly overtaken her. “Pulled.”

  He turned to look her over. “Put your hands down.”

  Sabetha looked to the side and did as ordered. The two thin patches on her chest were still not covered over by new growth.

  “Athan did this to you?” Baden asked, going over and touching the side of her neck.

  She gave a small nod, averting her eyes. “He knew you’d been here. I didn’t tell him, but he looked into the minds of the ravens around the fortress. They’ll tell him again if they saw you.”

  “I didn’t manifest until I was in here this time,” he replied, feeling terrible for what she’d endured. The thought that his father would go probing the minds of his pets for his whereabouts had never occurred to him. “I’ll have to be more careful in the future.”

  Sabetha lowered her head and slowly turned away, walking to her window to jerk the curtains shut. “He said he was going to find you and do something bad. He pretended at first it was to help you, but I knew better.”

  Baden sat on the edge of the dresser, no chairs present in the room as Sabetha couldn’t use them. “Where is he now?”

  “Went north to see the start of the ice ship,” she replied, coming back toward him. “You and Vinson should have taken the plans!”

  Baden shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I thought of that the night we fled, but Vinson said it would be pointless. He had no doubt that every night when he was taken away from his work, it was being copied in earnest by some of my father’s scribes. Athan would never be so foolish as to only retain a single copy of such important documents, and I didn’t have time to try and find all of them before running.”

  She swayed slowly where she stood. “I didn’t tell him, anyway. I won’t. Never, never.”

  “I don’t like the thought of you being hurt.” Baden bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. “It’s my fault, and I’m sorry it happened.”

  “Sabetha is tough,” she replied.

  She wasn’t, though, and he knew it. While she may have possessed the will to withhold his whereabouts from Athan, the fact he would snap at some point and seriously injure or even kill her was inescapable.

  Sabetha moved closer to him. “Is it nice where you and Vinson are? It looks like it is.”

  Baden slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. “It is, yes, but it is very, very far away. It took quite a long time for Vinson and me to get there from here.”

  “But Vinson cannot fly,” she replied, lowering closer to the floor, her feathers standing on end.

  “Indeed he cannot,” Baden said, quirking a brow. “Sabetha, are you wanting to leave?”

  She glanced toward the door before taking another step toward him and resting her chin on his knee. She turned her large black eyes up at him. “Athan says people will hurt me outside the castle, but Baden would protect.”

  Baden reached out and placed his hand on the top of her head, smoothing back her silver, downy hair. “Dear God, we’re going to do this, aren’t we?”

  Sabetha gave a single click of her beak.

  * * *

  It had been weeks since Saleet had left in pursuit of Emperor Betram. Something hadn’t been sitting well in Danier’s stomach once her absence had gone on just a little too long. Though he doubted like hell the old man would have successfully evaded his sister, there was the chance he’d managed to get under Keiran’s protection sooner than anticipated.

  Though he’d been extremely busy trying to crush the rebellions against his regime intermittently taking place in and around Takrah, Saleet’s fate had never been far from his thoughts. Somehow, he simply knew she’d failed and was most likely dead.

  “Is the river passable to the north yet? Certainly, the Ibianese know if it is or not.” Danier asked one of his men, who’d returned from a diplomatic trip to Ibia.

  He gave a nod, dropping to a knee momentarily before standing again. “They have begun to dispatch ships of theirs toward the Northern Sea, so it would seem so. However, I’m afraid I have some bad news from King Marique.”

  The new emperor’s eyes narrowed down to slits. “And what is that?”

  “He says this year’s grain shipments to our empire have not yet been paid for,” the man replied, staying out of Danier’s reach.

  “I know for a fact Betram always kept paid a year in advance,” Danier growled back.

  “He says otherwise.”

  He gave passing thought to tearing into his advisor, but he managed to temper his anger. There was more than enough gold left in Betram’s coffers to cover yet another year, and despite his hatred of foreign trade, his countrymen would need to eat or his reign would be short lived.

  Danier growled and dropped his chin to his chest. “Very well. Tell the greedy bastard he will get his payment. Before that, however, have a ship prepared for me. There is a quick matter I must attend to personally. I cannot rely on anyone else to do it.”

  “How far are you intending to go?” the man asked, knowing he’d have to see to the ship’s provisions.

  Danier felt the almost pleasurable pain of his fangs descending. “Tordan Lea.”

  * * *

  Athan stood in the field where the steel for the ice ship was being amassed. While there was still snow on the ground, and likely more on the way before their short summer would start, his people had sought to obey his demands, lest they suffer the consequences.

  Quickly constructed warehouses had been erected on the site to keep the materials being collected dry. Other buildings to hold the massive forges needed to form the raw steel they’d imported from Tordania were also going up.

  Despite all of his troubles over the previous year, Athan finally felt a real glimmer of hope. Any risk of Keiran being a roadblock was negated for the time being, and if this ice ship worked, he would have a means of finally charging into the Northern Wastes to get Kayla back under his control.

  The Nahli would be dealt with at the same time. Though Sytir had greatly concerned him with his ability to summon up the storm cutting him off from Minar the year prior, surely they couldn’t all be that powerful. Besides, with the size of the ship he was building, a stor
m wouldn’t stop it, and it would be impenetrable.

  He tipped his head up toward the cloud-hazed sky and smiled.

  * * *

  Mother Thinliss sat in her office within the cathedral. She heard a quiet shuffle, and she looked across the room. A red scrap of paper had been slipped beneath the door and she smiled to herself. Perhaps the Church Knights had finally come to their senses.

  * * *

  The road opened up before Jerris and his small group as they finally entered the valley. The town of Tordan Lea lay before them, the windows of the homes warmly glowing with lamp and candle light. Night had fallen a few hours before, but knowing they were close had prompted the lot of them onward.

  Jerris looked back at the others. “We made it.”

  Betram strained his eyes out over the Tordan Lea, seeing the faint outline of the castle above the town. “This is it?”

  The redhead looked over at the emperor, quirking a brow. “I know, not quite up to your standards, but it’s home to us.”

  Mari and Garhan kept tight lipped. Though it didn’t compare to Aleria, they weren’t about to put down the place they’d grown comfortable calling home.

  Etras scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable with Betram’s lack of tact. “I’m certain in the daylight it is very lovely. It will be a nice change from the crowds we had in Takrah.”

  Though he was eager to get home to see Magretha, Jerris led them directly to the castle gates. His wife would have likely been asleep already, anyway.

  The night sentries were surprised to see Jerris and the others, but they allowed the group to enter the courtyard without any questions. Though he had resigned before disappearing, none of them were about to stand in his way.

  Once inside, Jerris took Betram and Etras into the throne room, asking them to stay while he tracked down Keiran. Mari and Garhan decided to wait with the Sadoris, as they, too, wished to see Keiran.

  Jerris took the stairs up to the second floor two at a time and jogged down the hall to Keiran’s door. He reached out to knock, his arm freezing up. A sudden awkward feeling came over him, given what had transpired between them before his departure.