Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4)

by K. C. May

  “I’m glad to be home now,” she said.

  “How’s the little one doing?” he asked.

  She stared at him blankly. The little what?

  “The baby?”

  “Oh!” She laughed, putting a hand on her swollen belly. She was starting to show through her normal clothes now, but unless she was bending over, she forgot it was there. “He’s fine. I expected to feel nauseated, but aside from a touch of moodiness, I feel well.” It occurred to her that it wasn’t too late to blame her behavior on the pregnancy.

  “Glad to hear it. You’re fortunate.” A moment passed in awkward silence before Edan said, “I’ve received a message from Gavin.”

  “Oh, when is my dear husband returning?”

  “He didn’t say, but I suspect he’ll be along soon. Do you have his warrant tag?”

  “Yes, he gave it to me before we were married. I’m sure it’s around somewhere.”

  “He requests that I retrieve it and keep it safe.”

  Well, well. Perhaps the feelings she’d shared with him caused him to hurt someone. Maybe Daia. She waved a hand dismissively. “It’ll take me a few days to find it. I can’t remember where I put it.”

  “I’ll send some servants to help you search.”

  “You will not!” she snapped. In a gentler tone, she added, “I don’t care for people rummaging through my belongings. I’ll make a concerted effort to find it. I’ve little else to occupy my time here in this prison.”

  “I’m sorry you see your luxurious apartment as a prison, my queen,” Edan said. “Please tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable.”

  “A walk now and then,” she said. “My ankles are swelling from all the sitting. Four days in a carriage, and now I’m cooped up here like a damned chicken. Perhaps late in the evening after the children have gone to bed, since you don’t trust me with them.”

  “If you don’t mind being accompanied by your guard, I can arrange it.”

  She was about to agree when Edan’s assistant, Pryan, knocked on the open door and leaned into the room. “Lord Dawnpiper, the visitors have asked if Queen Feanna has arrived.”

  Edan stood. “I’ll be right there.” With a crisp bow, he said, “Your Majesty.”

  “What visitors?” Feanna asked, grasping his sleeve to stop him from leaving.

  A blank expression crossed his face, replaced by an imperious smile. “It’s nothing that won’t wait for King Gavin.” Edan put his hand over hers and gently removed it from his arm. He strode out, leaving her glaring at his back.

  She opened her mouth to hurl curses and insults at him and demand he stop, but Ragetha put a finger to her eye. Feanna took a deep, calming breath and sat back into the seat. “Ragetha, before you go, would you send Eriska in?”

  Eriska knocked and entered a few minutes later. She smiled pleasantly and curtsied. “You needed me, Your Majesty?”

  Feanna took a seat in front of her dressing table. “Brush out my hair, dear.”

  “Of course, my queen.” Eriska unpinned Feanna’s hair and started brushing it, humming softly.

  “I heard there’s a visitor to the palace today,” Feanna said. “Have you seen him?”

  “Oh, yes,” she replied. “Two men. They look foreign, not only in the style of their clothing—one has thick black tattoos on his chest and arms, and the other has a ring through his bottom lip. It must be terribly painful.”

  “Where are they from?”

  “Rumor has it the pierced one is an emissary from Cyprindia, and the tattooed one is his champion. They don’t take meals with the family, but Lord Edan and Lord Jophet have invited them to dine with them a couple times.”

  An emissary. Feanna wondered what he wanted. She’d never heard of Cyprindia and didn’t know where it was, but she didn’t want to appear completely ignorant. “How wonderful,” she said. “At which inn are they staying?”

  “Lord Edan has offered them a guest room in the ruby wing, down the hall from Lord Jophet’s room.”

  Feanna smiled. All the better. She would find a way to see this emissary whether Edan liked it or not, perhaps during one of her evening strolls.

  Chapter 18

  “Don’t,” Gavin warned, his hand twitching in anticipation of feeling the sword in his palm. “It wasn’t a threat. I don’t want to hurt you. Give me what I came for, and I’ll leave.”

  Bahnna’s eyes turned to purple again, and she took two slow steps towards him. “What rune do you want?”

  “It’s a rune of swapping.”

  “I can craft that one, yes,” she said, “but I’ll sing for you first and take what I want. Come with me to the stream, Uckod.”

  He stood his ground. He wanted to argue with her, to demand she fulfill her promise, but it was best to wait for Bahn to return. Bahn would convince her. “You won’t sing for me at all. I’ll wait for Bahn to get here.”

  She trilled a loud laugh. “Do you think my complement can save you from my song? I’ll sing for you in front of the entire village.”

  Footsteps ran up from behind. He turned to find Bahn, hunched over, breathing hard.

  “I... am here... Emtor.” He limped to the well and drew a bucket of water, then scooped out a cupful and drank it down. He smiled at Gavin with sparkling green eyes. “Welcome back to our realm, Emtor. I’m pleased to see you again. You look strong and healthy.” To his surprise, Bahn embraced him as if they’d been lifelong friends.

  Bahn looked well too, Gavin noticed. He’d put on weight, and he wore a long brown shirt that reached to his knees, not the patched and dirty loincloth he wore when they’d first met, and new sandals on his feet. “You’re looking well, too. I’m glad to see your people reunited in the village.”

  “We can live together without fear once again, Emtor. We are humbled and grateful for what you have done for our realm.”

  Gavin scratched an imagined itch on his temple. “Last time I was here, your complement promised to make another rune for me, whenever I wanted.”

  “Yes,” Bahn said, brightening further. “You saved us from the dark one. She’ll craft it for you.”

  “Yeh, well, she seems to have forgotten about her promise.”

  Bahn trilled a laugh, not the raunchy laugh of his complement, but a joyful, pleasant sound. “She didn’t forget. It isn’t in her nature to express gratitude or to cooperate without resistance, but she’s prepared to craft the rune for you now.”

  “Without singing?”

  Bahn laughed again. “Yes, Emtor. She won’t enchant you.”

  “Next time you return here, I’ll sing for you,” Bahnna said. “I’ll have my pleasure, and nothing will stop me.” The purple in her eyes deepened, and she flicked her tongue out far enough to lick her own nose.

  Gavin shuddered. No one disgusted him as much as Bahnna did. “Thank you for coming back to mediate this,” he said to Bahn. “I don’t think she would’ve done it without you here.”

  Bahn bowed. “I’m pleased to help you, Emtor. I hope to see you again.”

  If he had to return to the midrealm, it wouldn’t be to this village. Bahnna would make good on her threat to enchant him with her song, and he had a good idea what horror that would bring: he’d be an unwilling but captive participant in a mating.

  He followed Bahnna to the stream, staying several paces behind so as not to suffer her vileness up close. She was like a beyonder, without a hint of the warm, soft pleasantness of the zhi essence. He wished Bahn had come with them to the stream, but as before, when Bahnna crafted the rune of the past, Bahn remained behind, leaving Gavin to deal directly with the kho-bent Bahnna.

  Finally she stopped and searched along the bank for a stone. He did the same, looking for one that was flat and smooth, small enough to fit easily in his palm. “This one will do,” Bahnna said. She rinsed it in the flow of the stream and turned it over. “Do you remember your part, Uckod?”

  “Yeh. Let’s get this over with.”

  “I would make the
rune better if you let me sing to you first,” she said with glittering purple eyes.

  “No.”

  Her eyes turned yellow-orange, and she squatted by the water. “Come closer, Uckod. I can’t carve the rune with you way over there.”

  Gavin took a deep breath to summon his resolve and approached, then squatted beside her. He had to hunker down so low to scoop water in both hands that he nearly toppled into the stream. He found it easier to straddle the stream in a wide squat instead.

  Bahnna held the smooth gray stone in her left hand, and with her right forefinger, she drew a symbol on the rock’s surface. Gavin continually scooped water with both hands and poured it over the stone. With each scoop of water, the rock sizzled, and acrid smoke filled his nose. She drew the symbol again and again as he poured the water. Gradually, a shape appeared and darkened: two triangles adjoined at one corner with a curved line above and another below. It resembled a butterfly inside a partial circle.

  When at last the lines were thick and black, she stood and offered him the rune. “Its name is kembishyrad. Don’t forget it.”

  Gavin took it, weighing it in his hand. It was still warm. “Kembishyrad. Got it. You have my thanks.”

  “I don’t want your thanks, Uckod.” She turned and walked away.

  He shrugged. At least he had the rune he needed. He put it into his knapsack with the Nal Disi and returned to the spot where he’d been when he went through the vortex. The same brown critter was there, glaring at him with red eyes. “I’ll be gone in a snap,” he said to it. Using his hidden eye, he located the thin thread of magic that stretched from his ring and disappeared into nothingness, though he knew it connected to Daia’s in his own realm. He followed it, sensed her haze and its fiery tendril of strength, and grasped it. The vortex appeared before him, cycling endlessly through its colors. When it turned blue, he stepped into it.

  Chapter 19

  The porter, Symond, entered the receiving room and wordlessly handed Edan a folded paper. The note, penned in Symond’s own hand, said that a child by the name of Keturah Kinshield had come to the palace requesting to see the king.

  Edan stood and straightened his jacket. “I apologize for the interruption,” he said to Kaoque. “A matter has arisen that I must attend to.”

  “Dinner will be served in a few minutes,” Symond said to the Cyprindian guests. “I shall return momentarily to escort you. This way, Lord Dawnpiper, if you please.”

  Out of the Cyprindians’ earshot, Symond told Edan that Miss Kinshield was waiting in the main Council room. Edan walked through the corridors to the largest of the three conference rooms where the Supreme Councilors met. Keturah was sitting in one of the chairs, looking small and lost on its wide seat. Edan had only seen her once before, but he was struck again by how much she resembled Gavin. It would have been easy to pass her off as Gavin’s daughter rather than Rogan’s, if there was a need to. Edan was not convinced there was or ever would be.

  “Miss Keturah,” he said with a slight bow. “I’m King Gavin’s adviser, Edan Dawnpiper.” Symond closed the door behind him, and Edan was alone with the child. Why hadn’t Nicholia come with her? “Where’s your mother?” He turned a chair to face Keturah and sat on its edge, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

  “She’s awful sick, my lord,” Keturah said, rubbing the arms of the chair nervously. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Please, can you help?”

  If Gavin were here, Edan thought, he’d be running through Tern to see her right now. He was the best healer Edan knew, but he was miles away. “What’s the matter with her?”

  Keturah started to cry, but she tried her best to talk through her tears. “She got a fever and headache and felt tired, and the places where the dogs bit her got red and itchy—”

  “Dogs bit her? What dogs?”

  “Street dogs. She bought a roast at the market, and they attacked her in the alley behind our house trying to take it. They bit her leg and hand. My grandmother heard them snarling and tried to fight them off, but she got bit too.”

  Rabies, Edan thought, a creeping dread filling his chest. “Is your grandmother sick too?” He’d need to send some battlers out to find and slay the rabid dogs before more people were bit.

  Tears streamed down Keturah’s face. “She was, but she died.” Sobs shook her body and broke Edan’s heart.

  He put a hand on her shoulder for comfort, and the next thing he knew, she was crying in his arms. Had she no one to comfort her during this difficult time? It occurred to him that perhaps she didn’t. If her mother and grandmother were the only family she had, that would leave only her father’s family. Gavin would take her in, regardless of the consequences to himself. And he would expect no less of Edan.

  “Sweetheart,” he said gently, “is your mama confused or saying things that don’t make sense? Is she having trouble sleeping?” In his youth, he’d known of a man who contracted rabies from a fox he’d trapped. His family had brought him on the back of a wagon to beg for help from Edan’s father, the Lordover Lalorian, a sight Edan would never forget. The man had raved like a madman, shouting about impossible things in the sky one minute and sobbing uncontrollably the next.

  When her sobs quieted, she pulled back and took a moment to compose herself. “Yes, just like my grandmother afore she died. Please can you help?”

  “Of course I will. King Gavin’s away, but I’ll do everything I can. Let’s start by sending the best healers we have.” Edan stood and offered his hand, which Keturah took, and together they walked briskly through the palace to his office, where his assistant, Pryan, was hunched over his desk, scribbling madly. He looked up with a smile, which fell as soon as he saw the teary-eyed girl. Pryan stood. “Lord Edan. Miss.”

  “Pryan, who’s our very best healer?” Edan asked.

  “Why, Aelinara is, of course, though Baryss is a close second. Both are extraordinarily skilled healers, sir.”

  “I need you to send both of them, quick as you can, with Miss Kinshield to her home. Her mother is quite ill and needs immediate attention.”

  “Miss Kin—Oh, my.” Pryan stared for a moment. “Yes, I can see it in her eyes.”

  “Pryan? Now, if you please.”

  Pryan startled. “Of course, my lord. My lady. Right away. If you’ll wait one moment, I shall fetch them.” He skirted past them and sprinted down the hall.

  Edan squatted in front of Keturah. “We’ll do everything we can to help your mother. I promise you.” It was in Gavin’s best interest to heal Nicholia, for although he was willing to accept Keturah as his own daughter to spare his dead brother’s family the shame of a bastard, it would only confuse matters of succession should Feanna’s son not survive. It was a well-established fact that Gavin had been married previously and had a daughter. Although his daughter had perished along with his wife, the fact that Keturah was the same age as Caevyan would have been might make people wonder and gossip.

  Keturah only nodded halfheartedly. She was far too young to understand the magnitude of what she faced, yet there was no doubt that she felt it acutely. How terribly alone she must have felt.

  “No matter what,” Edan told her in a soft voice, “things have a way of working themselves out.” He wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his thumb. “Tell me how strong your mama is. Tell me how good and kind.”

  While Keturah talked, quietly at first and then more confidently and with affection, Edan inventoried the bed chambers in his mind. While the palace was large, it wasn’t infinitely so. Perhaps Keturah could share a room with Iriel, at least for a while. Though he wanted to put on a confident face for the girl, he knew there was no hope for her mother if she’d been bitten by a rabid dog. If she’d sought treatment immediately, perhaps she’d have had a chance, but once delirium set in, it was only a matter of hours before she would succumb. His father’s best healers hadn’t been able to save that fox-bitten man.

  Pryan returned with the two healers, each carrying a bag bulg
ing with supplies. “We’re here, Lord Dawnpiper. A wagon is being hitched out back to take these ladies to Miss Kinshield’s home.”

  Edan stood. “Good. Pryan, go with them, please. Spare no expense or effort to save her mother.” Baryss extended one hand to Keturah, who took it, and the four of them started off towards the rear door. “Pryan,” Edan said, calling him back, out of the child’s earshot.

  His assistant stopped and turned back. “Yes, my lord?”

  “When her mother passes away, bring Keturah back here and then make burial arrangements. I’ll talk to Iriel about sharing her room and have a bed brought up.”

  A doubtful look crossed Pryan’s youthful face. “Forgive me, my lord, but isn’t that a bit hasty?”

  “Let’s hope so, Pryan. Let’s hope so.”

  Chapter 20

  Feanna was sitting at the open window, looking out onto Lake Athra beyond the rear garden and at the waterfall that fed the lake from the mountains. Sunlight glittered on the surface of the gently flowing water, drawing her eyes to the multitude of sparkles. While her sitting room had a lovely view, unspoiled by the rooftops and streets of Tern, it was still a prison. Her apartment door was locked from the outside, and she hadn’t been permitted to walk about the palace at all since she returned home. Her hips and knees ached, and her feet and ankles were swollen from too much time sitting.

  Though they brought her books to read, she had no one to talk to. The solitude was becoming tedious. This was all Gavin’s fault. He would pay.

  She pulled his warrant tag from its hiding place between her breasts and clutched it in her hand. She shifted but felt nothing. Nothing, damn it. Her empathic gift should have filled her with whatever emotions he was feeling—joy, fear, hope—stupid emotions that betrayed the weakness beneath the strong exterior he tried so hard to project. She let go and tried again. Still nothing. It was like the time before they were married when she’d thought him dead.