Kane couldn’t have heard Theda right. Marry her? What craziness was this? He stumbled back a few steps, turning away so that she wouldn’t see how much her words hurt him. The idea of claiming her as his own stabbed through his heart, leaving him bleeding for something he could never have.
Something he wanted more than he wanted to draw another breath.
She kept right on talking. “You have proven to be a man of honor, Kane, one who treats me far better than any man Ifre might choose for me.”
Theda followed him step for step, holding his arm as if she feared he would take off running. The gods knew he should. “Kane, please speak to me.”
He refused to face her, looking back at her from over his shoulder. “What would you have me say, Theda?”
She already knew his answer. Her pretty face was ashen, her eyes huge and ashamed. “A simple no would suffice. I apologize for putting you in such an awkward position. I’ll go now before I embarrass myself any further. Forgive my foolishness.”
The catch in her voice warned that tears weren’t far away. He couldn’t let her walk away thinking he was offended by her proposal. Quite the contrary.
“Theda, wait.”
She paid him no heed, instead quickening her pace. Soon she’d be close enough to the door for Tom to hear her coming. Three long strides and Kane caught up with her, blocking her way.
He caught her hand in his. “Let me explain.”
“I don’t need to hear your reasons, Kane. Forget I said anything.” She fought to break free of his grip. To avoid the risk of bruising her delicate skin, he gave up trying to convince her to stay and simply picked her up.
“Put me down!”
He tightened his grip with one arm and used his free hand to cover her mouth. “Theda! Quiet! The last thing either of us needs right now is to draw attention to ourselves. Nod if you can control your voice.”
She jerked her head up and down, but the fury in her eyes warned him that anything she did say was going to be dagger sharp. He carried her to the most distant bench, where he sat down and held her on his lap. Hob loped along in their footsteps, his tail swishing back and forth, sharing his owner’s agitation. When they stopped, he looked from Kane to Theda and back again. Clearly he wasn’t sure which of the two humans needed his protection.
“Hob, stand guard.”
The gargoyle stared at Kane for a handful of seconds before slithering away into the shadows. No one would get by him, leaving Kane free to focus on the unhappy woman in his arms.
He cradled her head against his chest, glad that she’d allow him to offer her even that much comfort. Meanwhile, he searched for the right words to heal this wound between them.
He started off with the truth.
“Theda, I am honored by your words, but I am not a free man.”
He paused, trying to gauge her response. She had been leaning against him, but she abruptly sat upright and looked at him in shock.
“What do you mean you aren’t free? You would dally with me knowing another woman waits for your return?”
All right, obviously now he was the one not making sense. “I have never been married, Theda, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Yet somehow you are not free?”
“You have never asked about the odd shade of my eyes, but they were not always this color. I was born with green eyes.” He turned his face up to the sky, wishing he didn’t have to go any further with his explanation.
“How can that be? Such a change is not possible.”
“I would wager you’ve never seen anyone else with eyes like these.” Kane turned his pale gaze toward her, letting her look her fill. “Nothing is impossible when one is dealing with the gods. I am sworn to serve the Lord and Lady of the River. There are five of us, known to some as the Warriors of the Mist. Others simply call us the Damned.”
She drew in a sharp breath. He half expected her to pull away from him, and this time he would let her go. Instead, she surprised him again.
“I cannot believe how cruel people can be. If I were your goddess, I would smite them for saying such things.”
Her outrage on his behalf soothed the pain in his heart. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Thank you.”
He leaned back, shifting Theda to make them both more comfortable. “I would tell you my story if you would hear it.”
She nodded and settled herself more firmly in his arms. Once he started speaking, the words poured out until he talked himself hoarse. At least Theda allowed him to finish without interruption. He wasn’t sure he would have found the strength to continue if he’d had to stop and start.
“So I have but a few days left before I must rejoin my friends.”
She nodded as if he’d confirmed something she’d been thinking. “I knew from the first you were different from the men Ifre usually hires.”
“Not so different. Before I was called to serve the goddess, I was a mercenary.”
She held up a hand and counted off her reasons. “That first day when I passed you on the stairs, I sensed you didn’t like how Sergeant Markus acted toward me and my ladies-in-waiting. You also apologized for barging into my solar without knocking. You saved Lady Margaret from that drunken guard and me from Ifre’s fool of a secretary. And, finally, the children aren’t afraid of you.”
That last one surprised him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She beamed up at him. “If you watch the children around the keep, they avoid drawing the attention of the guardsmen. I watched you from my balcony when you took the time to join in their games. Children can sense which adults offer them no threat.”
She gave him an impish grin. “I’m betting animals trust you, as well. Who else could tame a gargoyle? And would I be right to guess that your horse is one that no one else could ride?”
If he had it in him to blush, he would have been bright red after listening to her assessment of him. He conceded the point about his horse. “My stallion’s name is Rogue, and I’m the only one he has ever tolerated on his back.”
As glad as he was that they seemed to have made peace, time was passing. Soon he must send Theda back inside.
Alone.
Before he could say so, he realized that she was caught up in her own thoughts, her eyebrows drawn down sharply in a frown. Her next words twisted the knife in his chest anew.
“I see no reason why we cannot marry, Kane, despite your duty to the goddess. I understand that and promise to make no effort to divide your loyalties. All I need is your name to shield me from my brother-in-law’s plans. You would, of course, gain control of all my wealth and my lands. Surely your cause could put that money to good use. Waging war on a man like Ifre is expensive.”
She continued talking, evidently too caught up in the fool’s dream she was weaving to notice how he was reacting. He carefully picked her up and set her aside. Lurching to his feet, he started to walk away, his thoughts scattering like dust in the wind. Once again Theda followed after him.
“Kane? I’m sure the local priest will perform the ceremony for us. He was a friend of my late husband’s.”
The last thing Kane needed at that moment was to be reminded that Theda had once belonged to another. He turned to face her, leaning close so she couldn’t miss his fury.
“Were you not listening? I cannot marry you. By the summer solstice, I will be gone, perhaps this time forever, if the goddess chooses to release us from her service. Otherwise, I will once again sleep beneath the river for centuries. The only difference this time is that I will dream of you.”
He kissed her, needing to claim at least that much of her for himself. It wasn’t gentle, but she’d never doubt for a second that he wanted her.
When he broke it off, they were both panting as if they’d been running. In a sense, they had been. Running from the truth and from what lay ahead of them.
“But know this much.” His temper made his next words cold. Sharp and jagged like his pai
n. “I don’t want your lands or your wealth, woman. I want the one thing I can’t have. I want your love.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she smiled up at him. “But you already have that, Kane. Now and for always.”
Her sweet promise was a balm to his weary soul. He offered his own truth. “As you have mine. It changes nothing, but my heart is yours to keep.”
When they kissed good-bye, he tasted her sweetness, her sadness, and his own grief.
* * *
Ifre was ready to retire for the night. He dismissed his manservant and climbed into bed, looking forward to a few hours of peaceful sleep. The day had been a long one, filled with the endless duties of running his realm. After the evening meal, he’d spent hours in his private chambers below the keep.
He’d fed his creation, using up the last of his captives to lull it to sleep. Free of its demands, he’d then pored over his books, looking for some way to strengthen his control over his spell. Afterward, for his own amusement, he’d burned up a great deal of the energy he’d built up to unleash his weapon again.
Over the past week, his courtiers had gossiped about outlandish rumors of bright lights that appeared out of nowhere to kill livestock and burn fields. Ifre had made all the right noises, outwardly looking concerned when inside he was howling with joy. Soon, when he had accumulated enough magic, the entire land would drop to its knees to obey his every command.
From there, his power would spread beyond the mountains. Yes, he had plenty to dream of when sleep claimed him. But as soon as he settled his head on the pillow, the acid-hot burn of magic had him jerking back upright and looking around for its source.
When he didn’t detect an immediate personal threat, he waited until his pulse slowed to reach out with all of his senses to trace the source of the power. There. Just the barest wisp that tasted of his magic but carried the dark spice of another mage’s power, one he didn’t immediately recognize.
Gently, he latched onto the fading tendrils and followed it back to the source. Through the thick walls, down and down, and then outside. Where? Ah, the garden. The longer he was in contact with the magic, the more familiar it felt. Finally, he recognized the half that was his.
It was the sigil he’d constructed for Kane. He would have recognized it sooner, but the strength of the spell seemed to have increased by tenfold. It was already subsiding back to its original level, but he could hardly contain his glee.
Something had happened to weaken Kane’s shields. By the time Ifre traced it all the way back to the captain himself, Kane had all of his protections back in place. Still, Ifre wanted to caper about the room in celebration. Kane might have repaired the wall, but the patches would be vulnerable once Ifre determined what had caused the breach in the first place.
Now wasn’t the time to pursue the matter any further, not when he was already tired from his studies. But tomorrow the hunt would begin in earnest.
* * *
Sigil stood beside Murdoch on the rampart over the gate and watched another row of tents taking shape on the grasslands outside of the keep. From the way his friend was nodding, Murdoch found the sight satisfying. The first of the troops promised by their allies had arrived.
The big warrior glanced in Sigil’s direction. “For Gideon’s sake, I’m glad they are here. In truth, for all of our sakes, but I’ll be far happier when Kane and Averel return. None of us feel at full strength without them.”
Sigil had been counting under his breath. “If my numbers are correct, there are now close to a hundred men out there. It’s a good beginning, but not enough to face Keirthan’s forces.”
Murdoch shrugged. “We’ve done more with less in the past. Never forget that we have the gods on our side.”
Sigil envied his friend’s faith. If the gods could end Ifre Keirthan’s evil, why did they need mortals to wage the battle for them? The duke wouldn’t hesitate to throw his own soldiers into the fray, not caring how many died as long as they kept the battle from reaching him. And Keirthan would lob his weapons from behind the safety of his city walls, a coward’s way of doing battle. Ifre had always been sneaky and weak.
The image of a handsome man with a slightly weak chin flashed into Sigil’s mind. He tried to hold on to the picture, but it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. He had no doubt that it had been Keirthan himself. Another memory, another piece of Sigil’s past, even if an unwelcome one. He didn’t recall any details, but in his heart he knew he’d committed atrocities in the duke’s name.
“Sir Sigil?”
He’d been too lost in the darkness of his own thoughts to notice that young Sarra had climbed up to the rampart to join them. Ever since their talk in the pasture, he’d spent a little time each day riding with her because she loved horses so much. So far, the voices that sometimes spoke through her had remained blessedly silent.
He lifted her up in his arms so she could see over the palisade to the grasslands beyond. “Hi, Sarra. Did you need something?”
As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn’t. Her eyes glazed over, and her face had that stony look of when someone else was in control of her words. At least Murdoch had moved down to the other end of the rampart, so whatever Sarra had to say would be private.
“Captain, you are no longer the man you were when your memories were created. But as long as you fight their return, they still wield power over you. Do not let the past destroy your future.”
As her words drifted away on the breeze, she wrapped her arms around Sigil’s neck and gave him a hug. He closed his eyes, savoring the little girl’s simple affection, and if she spoke for the gods, surely that meant there was hope for his salvation.
“Can we go riding today?”
He set Sarra back down. “Yes, little one, but it will have to be later. I’m on duty right now.”
Her disappointment was obvious. “Promise me you won’t forget. The horses miss us when we’re not there.”
Sigil leaned down to tap her on the tip of her nose. “I will not forget. You have my word.”
Then Sarra skipped off down the rampart, pausing before she descended to the bailey below to smile at him one last time. He smiled back, his heart lighter than it had been since he first awoke to a world with no memories and a new chance at redemption.
Chapter 14
Kane saddled Rogue. He wasn’t sure who needed a hard run more, him or the horse. As he rode through the streets, the close walls of the city pressed down on him to the point it was difficult to breathe.
Over the days he’d spent in the capital, he’d grown used to the pungent scent of Keirthan’s magic tainting the air. But after leaving Theda last night, his sleeping hours had been plagued with dark dreams, ones that still shadowed his mood. It was as if a new layer of potent magic had blanketed the city overnight.
He’d planned to ride by himself, but he slowed Rogue as they passed near the tavern where Averel worked. Perhaps it would be better to see if his friend was available to join him.
After dismounting, Kane tied Rogue’s reins to a fence post some distance from any of the other horses. The stallion’s mood was a reflection of Kane’s own, meaning he’d try to kick any horse that got too close.
Kane ducked inside the tavern and waited for his light-sensitive eyes to adjust to the dim interior. As soon as he spotted Averel, he headed straight for him, not caring if anyone wondered what kind of business the captain of the guard might have with the troubadour.
“Let’s ride.”
Without waiting for his friend to respond, Kane stalked back outside. Either Averel would join him or he wouldn’t. While he waited to see which it would be, he stroked Rogue’s nose and watched the ebb and flow of people passing by. Unless he was mistaken, more people were heading out of the nearby gate than were entering the city. Did they sense the growing darkness, too?
“What’s going on?”
Averel came out of the back door of the tavern, strapping on his sword. His dogs tripped over each other
as they hurried to follow their master out into the street.
Kane jerked his head in greeting. “We’ll talk once we’re outside the city. Do you need help saddling your mare?”
His friend rolled his eyes and walked into the stable alone. The dogs stayed with Kane, taking turns flopping in the dirt and then shaking hard to send up clouds of dust in the air. Once again Rogue’s ears went back, but Kane thumped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, stop that. We’ll be moving again soon enough.”
The stallion chuffed, looking disgruntled until Averel reappeared leading his mare. As soon as they came into sight, Rogue’s head came up, his ears flicking forward at the mare’s approach, but she only ignored him. Clearly Kane wasn’t the only one with woman problems.
He gathered Rogue’s reins and swung up on his broad back. Averel followed behind, both horses moving at a brisk trot until they left the gates of the city. Once they were clear of the clutter of others on the road, Kane cut across country and kicked Rogue into a full gallop.
With the dogs running off to the side, Kane and Averel rode hard until they reached the same clearing where they’d met before. Kane dismounted and walked Rogue to cool him down before leading the horse to the small stream that ran along the edge of the woods. His young friend showed amazing forbearance by not demanding an explanation for the unexpected trip, for which Kane was grateful.
By the time they both sat down, he was ready to talk.
Before he could say a word, Averel gave him a considering look and asked, “What did the lady do this time?”
Kane didn’t bother asking Averel how he’d guessed that Lady Theda was the source of his agitation. “She asked me to marry her.”
The look of utter shock on Averel’s face was worth the price of a bad mood and a bone-jarring ride. Kane waited to see what the younger knight would say once he recovered his ability to talk.
“Truly, she proposed marriage to you? What did you say?”
Kane’s amusement faded away as quickly as it had appeared. “I told her about my past and about the Damned. I could not bring myself to lie to her about who and what I am. I owed her the truth.”
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