War of Shadows: Book Three of the Ascendant Kingdoms Saga

by Gail Z. Martin

  Alsibeth gave him a tired smile. “I can’t give you the answers you want, Connor. But I do sense that McFadden is still at the center of what is to come. The outcome is unclear, but I’m certain your fate remains tangled with his—and with Penhallow.”

  “At least I’m on the right side,” Connor said. Despite Penhallow’s healing, Connor felt a tiredness that he was sure had more to do with mental exhaustion than physical stamina, and let sleep take him.

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

  YOU WEREN’T THIS NERVOUS WHEN WE WERE fighting monsters,” Piran said, shaking his head.

  “That was war. This is marriage,” Blaine replied.

  Piran raised an eyebrow. “You mean there’s a difference?”

  Blaine rolled his eyes and chuckled. Blaine stood in Glenreith’s great room, dressed in the most presentable outfit he could scavenge.

  The long table in the center of the great room held a feast of roasted venison, freshly baked breads, pastries, cheeses, and dried fruits. Blaine argued against straining the manor’s scant resources, but his aunt Judith and Edward, Glenreith’s seneschal, turned a deaf ear. Garlands of woven straw and cuttings of pine and fir decorated the walls and table. Candles gave the room a festive glow, and a fire roared in the room’s huge fireplace.

  Outside, another storm raged. Blaine counted it as a blessing; the storm made it highly unlikely that anyone would attack, perhaps not for several days to come.

  Blaine’s closest friends stood behind him: Niklas, Piran, Dawe, and Verran. Edward opened a door into the corridor to admit the bride and her party. Judith was the first to enter, followed by Kestel. Blaine’s sister, Mari, and Zaryae followed behind Kestel. Mari carried a sword that lay flat on her upturned palms.

  “Blaine McFadden, is it your intent to make a handfasting with Kestel Falke?” Judith McFadden Ainsworth asked when the bridal party reached the place where Blaine stood. Judith was a handsome woman in her middle years, and tonight, between the soft light of the candles and the extra effort she had taken with her appearance for the wedding, it was possible to glimpse the beauty she had been in her younger years, before hardship and sorrow had taken their toll.

  “It is,” Blaine said. He was nervous enough that he feared his voice might crack like that of a half-grown boy.

  “Kestel Falke, is it your intent to make a handfasting with this man?” Judith asked.

  “Yes,” Kestel replied, meeting Blaine’s gaze. “It is.”

  Kestel wore a borrowed gown of sapphire blue. Blaine guessed that Judith and Mari had remade the gown from one of Judith’s dresses. The dress flattered Kestel’s red hair and light skin, and its cut showed off her toned body. Kestel’s hair was twisted into complicated braids that circled her head, and a line of kohl outlined her green eyes. In better days, gold and gemstones would have completed the bridal clothing, but anything of value that Judith and Mari owned had long ago been sold.

  “Present the groom’s gift,” Judith instructed.

  A blush crept into Kestel’s cheeks as she turned to take the sword-gift from Mari. Holding the sword flat on her open hands, Kestel offered it to Blaine. On the end of the pommel lay one of the rings Dawe had forged for them.

  “I accept your intention, and swear my intention on this blade that nothing separate us but death itself,” Kestel said.

  Blaine accepted the sword, and Kestel took the ring from the pommel, sliding it onto Blaine’s finger. “This I have sworn,” she said.

  Niklas stepped forward, holding a similar sword, but this one was wrapped with a silken cord. Blaine took the sword and held it out to Kestel.

  “I honor your acceptance, and swear on this blade that all I own, I will share with you until death parts us,” Blaine replied. Kestel took the sword, and Blaine lifted her hand and slipped the ring into place. “This I have sworn,” he echoed.

  Judith unwrapped the silken cord from around the blade. Blaine and Kestel clasped their left hands and held them up while Judith twined the cord over and around them.

  “By your intent, and in the sight of all the gods and the spirits that be, you are wed,” Judith proclaimed. “And may the gods above and below bless your union.” It was an old tradition in Donderath that a village’s matrons, the ‘wise women,’ readied brides for their weddings and spoke the words of binding. Judith’s eyes glittered with joy.

  Judith unwound the silk cord, and bent forward to kiss their clasped hands in blessing, then grinned broadly and turned the newlyweds to face their guests. “Tonight, we have something fine to celebrate.”

  Verran, who had just returned to Glenreith the night before, pulled a pennywhistle from inside his vest, striking up a pleasant tune. The small crowd of friends clapped and cheered.

  “Best of everything to you,” Borya said as he and Desya stepped up to greet them. Zaryae wrapped an arm around each twin’s waist.

  “We’re honored to be part of your celebration,” Zaryae said.

  Kestel leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Glenreith is your home now. That makes you family.”

  Dawe wasted no time moving to stand with Mari, and Blaine wondered how long it would be before the two of them made their own handfasting. Robbe, Mari’s four-year-old son with her late husband, had already gathered a handful of sweets and gone to enjoy his ill-gotten bounty underneath the table.

  “My congratulations to both of you,” Geir said, making a low bow to Kestel. “I haven’t been a guest at a handfasting since my mortal days.” Geir’s smile hid the tips of his long eyeteeth. A slight ruddiness to his complexion suggested to Blaine that Geir had already fed, though Edward had made sure to have a flagon of fresh deer blood so that Geir and Penhallow could join in the feast. Geir’s dark hair hung loose to his shoulders, and he looked attired for court in a black waistcoat and pants.

  “Best wishes to both of you,” Lanyon Penhallow added, giving Blaine’s hand a hearty shake and leaning forward to kiss Kestel on the cheek.

  “I’m really happy for you two,” Connor said, grinning. Penhallow, Geir, and Connor had arrived the night before, and their presence was one of the reasons Blaine and Kestel had planned an evening ceremony.

  “I see Niklas is taking no chances,” Geir added, with a nod toward the soldiers who stood guard at each entrance to the great room.

  “People are most vulnerable when they’re happy,” Kestel replied. “One of the first lessons an assassin learns,” she said.

  Connor chuckled. “She’s the perfect match for you, Blaine,” he said. “What better partner for a warlord than an assassin?”

  “My thinking exactly,” Blaine said, and leaned over to kiss Kestel.

  By now, Dawe had slipped over to sit near Verran, and pulled a hand drum out from a bag on the floor. Borya and Desya joined them, and retrieved a lute and a larger drum from the same bag. Blaine had met Zaryae and the twins on his quest to restore the magic, and after their support for him cost the life of two of their troupe, he had invited Zaryae and the twins to make Glenreith their home.

  Kestel walked over to the musicians and whispered to Verran. Verran changed the tune he was playing to one of the up-tempo circle dances that Kestel loved, and she strode across the room to take Blaine’s arm.

  “A dance for the bride?” she asked, grinning broadly. Blaine let her lead him away. Judith and Edward danced with abandon, while Mari laughed affectionately as Dawe stumbled through the steps. Connor gallantly squired Zaryae, and Blaine was surprised that he knew the complicated steps.

  “Come dance with us!” Kestel called to Piran, who watched the dance from the safety of the far wall.

  “I’m not drunk enough to dance,” Piran replied, raising a glass of ale to let her know he was working on it.

  Verran and the others played one dance after another until the dancers were winded and even Kestel begged off. Blaine escorted her to the table heaped with food—a true luxury in postwar Donderath.

  “Judith and Edward have outdone the
mselves,” Kestel said.

  “I believe my aunt is quite smitten with your charms,” Blaine replied, helping himself to the roasted venison and a piece of bread. “As is the lord of the manor.”

  Kestel looked down the table of food. “I notice there’s no herring. An oversight?” She gave an evil chuckle.

  Blaine groaned. “You know, when we left Edgeland, I swore I’d never eat another herring again,” he said.

  “Did you forget that most of those herring were shipped home to Donderath?” Kestel asked in her sweetest voice.

  “I managed to push that from my thoughts,” he replied.

  “Zaryae told me that she had a dream about Carr,” she said quietly. “She mentioned it while we were getting ready. She said it was a warning.” She looked up into his eyes. “She believes he’s a danger to you.”

  “I appreciate the warning,” Blaine said, “but right now, Carr poses the biggest danger to himself.” He sighed. “Niklas is watching him. He’s off somewhere on patrol. And I’m sleeping with the most dangerous assassin in all of Donderath.”

  Kestel flashed a lascivious smile. “Let’s get back to our celebration, so we can get to the sleeping part,” she added with a wicked look in her eye.

  When they returned to the center of the room from the banquet table, Zaryae and Connor were deep in conversation. Judith stood watching the festivities with Edward close by her side. The hard years since Blaine’s exile had changed the nature of their relationship, and they no longer made a pretense of not being a couple. Verran had struck up another tune, with Borya and Desya joining in enthusiastically. Dawe had abandoned his drum for Mari’s company, and they stood off to one side, talking quietly.

  “A copper for your thoughts,” Kestel said, gently elbowing Blaine in the ribs.

  He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “Just feeling amazed and lucky to have made it this far,” he replied. “Even threadbare and down-at-the-heels, Glenreith still feels like home.”

  When the dancers were finally exhausted, Piran pulled out dice and cards. Since none of his friends would play him for money, Piran settled for using dried beans, and the wagering commenced. Even Judith and Edward got into the game. Kestel and Piran traded good-natured barbs, Verran cheated every chance he got, and somehow Dawe managed to win more hands than anyone else.

  Blaine was content to watch Kestel do the betting. It was good to have the Edgeland crew back together again. Though it made sense for them to play their separate roles in the war effort, he missed having his friends around him on a daily basis. Seeing his Edgeland ‘family’ and his Glenreith family meld so seamlessly made him happier than he had been in a long while, despite the dangers of the world beyond the manor’s walls.

  A commotion in the front entrance hall brought the festivities to a standstill. A gust of cold wind swept into the great room, and they heard the large doors shut.

  “Let me through,” a man’s voice demanded. “I’m the groom’s brother.”

  Blaine and Kestel exchanged wary glances. “Go on with the party,” Blaine said. “Niklas and I will take care of Carr.” Niklas was already moving across the room. Blaine joined him and together they headed for the door. Geir and Penhallow followed at a distance, just in case.

  Carr strode into the room. He was dressed for the storm, with a bulky fur-lined leather coat. Snow clung to his boots and fell from his hat and shoulders. But what caught everyone’s attention was the bound and gagged prisoner slung over Carr’s shoulder. Carr shrugged, barely bothering to break the man’s fall as he tumbled to the ground and rolled to Blaine’s feet.

  “I brought you a wedding present,” Carr said. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable.

  Zaryae knelt next to the prisoner and pulled back enough of the blanket around him to feel for a pulse. “He’s alive,” she reported. “But not quite right.”

  “He’s one of Hennoch’s favorite lieutenants,” Carr replied. “I met him in a tavern and drugged him with a potion I got from a hedge witch.” He nudged the body with his boot, but the prisoner did not respond. “There’s an amulet around his neck that will make him answer any questions you ask of him, once the potion wears off.” He paused.

  “Am I too late to say ‘congratulations’ to my brother and his new wife?” Carr asked with an insolent smile.

  “Of all the stupid stunts to pull…” Niklas began.

  Kestel laid a hand on his arm, and shot a warning glance at Blaine. “How did you get him away from the other soldiers?”

  “I seduced him—or at least, that’s what he thought I was doing,” Carr replied with a hard glint in his eyes. “I already knew all about him, and it wasn’t hard to arrange to accidentally befriend him in the tavern. He figured I was just another trollop, and after a couple of drinks, he was ready to go.” He smiled unpleasantly. “I gave him a different ride than he expected.”

  Blaine saw how much the last few months had changed Carr. Since the Madness, he had grown too thin, making his angular features sharper. If Carr were to bother to clean up, his looks would be better than passable, with a hint of danger that could make him attractive to someone who liked to take chances.

  “So no one saw you leave with him?” Kestel pressed. Espionage was a business she knew well.

  Carr laughed. “Oh, everyone saw us leave together. And they were pretty sure where we were going, from the catcalls. So no one would have missed him for several candlemarks, and by that time, we were long gone.”

  “Why him?” Though Carr had made his disdain for Kestel clear, her attention seemed to gratify him, averting an outburst of temper.

  Carr gave her a crafty look. “He’s one of Hennoch’s top men. He’ll know about Hennoch’s troop sizes, his strategies, maybe even what Pollard’s up to.” He leveled his gaze at Geir and Penhallow. “I figured you can ask him all he remembers while he’s magicked, and then have one of them,” he said with nod of his head, “read his blood and get the rest.”

  Blaine knew the others were waiting for his reaction. As much as he felt like throttling Carr, the prisoner’s information could be valuable. And Carr had already made his point, disrupting the wedding and putting a damper on the festivities. Blaine resolved to curtail the damage.

  “Let’s get him downstairs and locked up—keep two guards on him until we can get back to him,” Blaine said to Niklas, who signaled for soldiers to do what Blaine ordered.

  “I wouldn’t wait too long,” Carr called after them. “The potion’s effective, but toxic. I’ve had to dose him a couple of times on the way here. It’ll wear off in another candlemark or so, and he’ll be dead by morning.”

  Blaine and Niklas looked at each other with a glance that said they knew Carr had maneuvered them into a corner. “All right,” Blaine said. “Let’s get him downstairs and get this over with.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Kestel said. “Verran and the twins can keep the music going. We’ll come back when we’re finished.”

  “I’ll be glad to lend assistance,” Geir volunteered. He looked to Carr. “What did you drug him with?” Carr named several plants. Geir shrugged before picking up the prisoner. “None of those should harm a talishte. I can read his blood once you’re through with the interrogation.”

  “I would also join you, if you allow?” Penhallow asked.

  Blaine gave a nod, knowing without a word through the kruvgaldur that Penhallow wanted to protect him. This bond takes some getting used to, he thought to himself.

  Blaine doubted that after the interrogation and the prisoner’s execution, he or Kestel would feel much like rejoining the party.

  Judith slipped up beside Blaine and laid a hand on his arm. “Go on. I’ll make sure your guests have a good evening.” Blaine took Kestel’s hand and followed the others to the cellar.

  The new manor house had no need of a dungeon. But it did have windowless storage rooms with solid wooden doors, and it was to one of those rooms that Niklas directed Geir to take the prisoner.
They found a nearly empty room and a chair and unloaded the groggy prisoner, tying his arms to the chair before cutting the bonds at his wrists. Perhaps the prisoner thought they had shown mercy, but Blaine knew it was to make it easier for Geir to find an artery when the interrogation came to an end.

  “Ask him your questions,” Carr prompted. “Between the drugs and the amulet, he’ll tell you anything.”

  Blaine glared at Carr. Niklas moved between them and faced the prisoner.

  “What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Lieutenant Runi Melkir.”

  “What lord do you serve?”

  “Lord Hennoch, and his liege, Lord Reese and Lord Pollard,” Melkir replied.

  Niklas nodded. “What are your orders?”

  “We’re to harry Blaine McFadden and block him from accomplishing his objectives,” the man replied in a slurred voice.

  “What are those objectives?” Niklas pressed.

  Melkir was silent for a moment. “Doesn’t matter,” he answered finally. “We’re to get in the way. Find out what his men are doing at Mirdalur, block supplies from going into Castle Reach, burn out villages loyal to him. Whatever it takes.”

  Niklas looked at Blaine. “Pretty much what we expected,” he murmured. He turned his attention back to Melkir. “How did you know about Mirdalur?”

  The drugged man gave a sluggish chuckle. “Lord Pollard hears things,” he said. “He has spies.”

  “Who are your spies? Who gives you information?” Kestel asked.

  The prisoner gave Kestel a puzzled look. “You’re a pretty lady,” he slurred.

  Kestel gave him a warm smile that did not reach her eyes. “Tell me who gives you information,” she repeated, using a flicker of her own magic to encourage him to answer.

  “Steen the tinker,” he said finally, in a drunken mutter. “Teodor—he’s a thief. And Vinsi, the peddler.”

  “That’s very good,” Kestel praised, with a glance to make sure that Niklas had committed the names to memory.